


Howling Isn't the Only Thing We Do At Night

by MacBeka



Series: Our Little Wolves [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anders needs wolf lessons, Blood, Dirty Talk, Frottage, Hunting, Intercrural Sex, Justice was purged early on, Loneliness, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Marking, Mating, Mating Marks, No Justice though, Oral Sex, Pining, Possessive Behaviour, Probably ooc, Rough Sex, Scent Marking, Scenting, Slow Sex, Tantric Sex, Triggers, Werewolf AU, Werewolf!Fenris, Wolf Puns, everything else is normal, explanations of consent, helpful Fenris, kind of, magic triggers, play time!, the pun game is on point, werewolf!Anders, wolfy play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4341146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacBeka/pseuds/MacBeka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a reason Fenris was Danarius's 'little wolf'. Now that he's escaped, he finds himself settling in Kirkwall, with a rather ragtag bunch of misfits. How long will he be able to keep his secret?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howling Isn't the Only Thing We Do At Night

**Author's Note:**

> In this, Fenris and Anders don't have such a major rivalry because it's just not in either of their characters the way I see them, especially Anders and Justice. But Justice was purged from Anders before Fenris met them so it's removed a lot of Anders's anger and Fenris's hostility.
> 
> I have to thank my friend Becca for the title. She said it as a joke but I thought it was perfect ;D

It was dark. He was running. All he ever did was run nowadays.

They'd found him. They always found him. No matter where he went, they always found him. He was easy to spot, easier still to recognise, no matter the lengths he took. He would never be free. They'd hired the Crows this time. He needed to leave Antiva, but he was running out of places to go.

The hot dusty ground slowly changed underneath his bare feet into cool dirt and wet grass. He passed a sign but he didn't stop to look at it. The letters would only have jumbled under his gaze anyway. He skidded to a halt, ears twitching with the sounds of people; the clatter of kitchen pots and the shout of voices.

He looked around quickly and saw a forest a little ways away. He would be safe there; he could blend in as easily as any creature. As long as he didn't draw attention from hunters, he would be safe. He kept to the shadows in case anyone was around. It hampered his speed greatly, but it was worth it when he stepped into the dim gloom of the forest.

Moss grew on the soil, over the damp roots that had pushed above ground. He pressed his nose into the greenery and sniffed deeply. There were wolves about. Maybe he could run with them. They wouldn't know he was any different than they were, and it would give him protection. He had always been alone, always would be. For all he knew, he was the only one of his kind.

He followed the trail they'd left, stopping for a few minutes to scavenge on the carcass of a fallen deer, almost stripped of meat. He'd known in Seheron that he was in for a life of hardship, of loneliness. Part of him wanted to run back and beg for forgiveness. The punishment for an escaped slave only worsened the longer he was away.

No. No, he would remain a free man. He would cow to no man, mage or no. Never again.

* * *

Fenris had never chosen his name. It likely wasn't his real name, he knew that, but he had no memories of his life before the lyrium ritual. Whether he ever remembered or not, he doubted it would affect him much. He'd made his choices and, for all his abilities, he couldn't change the past.

He had no doubt of the gleeful look on Danarius's face when he decided that his slave would be known as his 'little wolf'. Fenris himself found himself amused by it occasionally, if only because he enjoyed the look of shock and terror on the faces of his enemies when he shifted. Anyone who spoke Tevene would know what his name meant so his amusement wasn't limited to within the Imperium.

For near enough three years, Fenris had eluded Danarius's forces. He'd spent most of the time as a wolf running with whatever pack he could find in the forests of the Free Marches.

When he'd crossed the border from Antiva, he'd found himself near Starkhaven. The chantry's influence would hopefully keep away any Tevinter mages, Magister or otherwise. He had only stayed there for a few months before he was moving on again. He stuck to the shadows and the forests, scaring away any wanderers with a growl and a flash of his teeth. It wasn't safe to be seen as an elf, not with his markings.

Eventually, they found him. It was inevitable really. He'd just arrived in the greenery surrounding the City of Chains so he had no pack, no wolves, nothing. They'd stabbed him with silver, forcing him to turn back. Once he was fully aware of his surroundings, it wasn't difficult to take them out. Only a small group of slavers and most of them were paralysed by fear at the sight of him.

Fenris scowled down at their bodies and then looked towards Kirkwall. Perhaps he could find someone to help him. People were more efficient than wolves, it would be easier. Decision made, he searched their bodies, gathering what coin they had and taking the greatsword of the one who looked to be their leader. This one he searched more thoroughly, finding his orders in a pouch. Danarius still wanted him alive at least, that was something. There was a larger force coming. This group was merely meant to capture him while the others marched to return him to Tevinter.

He scrunched them up in his fist, the spiked gauntlets of his armour tearing holes in it. He threw it back to the ground and turned to walk towards Kirkwall. His armour melded with his skin when he shifted - Danarius had requisitioned it specially - but a weapon did not. He just hoped there would be something in Kirkwall willing and capable of helping him.

There was no chance he would survive long if he let word get out that an escaped slave wanted help murdering slavers. He would need a cover story. Something from the orders note returned to mind; they were setting a trap for him. It would only require a little coin to spread word through underground connections that mercenaries were needed to retrieve the chest from the warehouse.

Fenris smirked to himself. He had his plan. He knew some people in Kirkwall from when he'd accompanied Danarius to the city. Danarius would no doubt be in the city too, waiting to reclaim what was his. He would stay in the mansion that Fenris had been ordered to guard before. He would take his opportunity. He would slay Danarius, here and now. The Magister would die.

* * *

"You got another letter from Meeran, Marian," Bethany said as she entered the small house.

Marian Hawke nodded in reply, tired and sore from sleeping on the floor of Varric's suite at the Hanged Man after a late night of Wicked Grace. She went to the desk and sorted through the letters until she found the one for her. She opened the ratty envelope and read over it quickly.

"Some contract work for a dwarf named Anso. Know him?" she asked, looking up.

Bethany frowned at the needlework she was doing. "Can't say I do."

"Apparently he pays well. I'll go and see him tonight, see what he wants."

"I'll go with you. Anders could do with being pulled away from the clinic too. Varric will be curious, as well."

"Let's just bring Aveline too while we're at it," she chuckled, rolling her eyes, slipping the letter into her pocket. Gamlen was far too nosy for her liking.

"You don't have to take anyone, I'm just saying," Bethany grumbled.

Marian sighed and went over to her, patting the dog on the head briefly. "I'm sorry, Beth, I was only joking. Would you like to come with me?"

Bethany smiled a little, looking less like she wanting to stab her eyes out with her needle. "Why, thank you so much for asking, sister. I would love to go with you."

Smiling, Marian squeezed her arm briefly as she got up and set about cleaning the house.

When night fell, Marian was just grabbing her daggers when Bethany answered a knock at the door to reveal Anders and Varric.

"What are we up to now that I have to come?" Anders asked, smoothing down the feathers of his coat. 

"I don't know. We're off to see a dwarf named Anso, do you know him, Varric?" Marian said, slipped her blades into the scabbards on her back.

"Yeah, he's new in town," Varric answered, scratching his chin. "Don't know what kind of thing he'd need mercenaries for though, I'm intrigued."

"Then let's go."

Anders held the door open for them, chuckling when Marian set a kiss on his cheek.

"What a gentleman," she said, pretending to swoon.

Anders scoffed and pushed her out of the house, shutting the door behind them. Marian fell in step beside him easily, a comfortable silence settling over the group.

"How's the clinic, Anders?" Bethany asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Well, thank you. Busy this week with an influx of miners from the Bone Pit. Why anyone would take a job at that blasted mine, I've no idea."

"A job's a job, Blondie," Varric reminded him.

Anders looked thoughtful and said no more. When they reached the market, they soon found the dwarf they were looking for.

"Are you Anso?" Marian asked.

The dwarf yelped and turned around quickly. "You can't just run up on someone like that! Are you the one that mercenary told me about?"

"I used to work with them if that's what you mean."

"Yes, that's what I mean, that is-- My apologies, human, I haven't been on the surface very long; I keep thinking I'll fall into that sky any minute."

Varric chuckled and murmured something to Bethany beside him. Bethany laughed slightly but said nothing.

"I digress," Anso said, rubbing his forehead. "I need some help, rather badly in fact. Some product of mine has been... misplaced. The man who was supposed to deliver it decided not to. If you retrieve my property I could reward you handsomely."

Marian nodded. "I'll get it back for you."

Anso was very grateful, directing them to a warehouse hovel in the alienage, where the product would be in a chest inside.

Walking their merry little gang back through the slums, Marian thought of what could possibly be so important. Thankfully they'd already dealt with the Sharps Highwaymen; they were known to roam the alienage at night when they were still active.

Hawke walked over to the house she'd been directed to, pushing the door open. It was laid out similarly to Gamlen's house: small with two side rooms. She tried the opposite door first, gathering some of the loot. There was nothing that looked like anything you would entrust to a smuggler.

Before she opened the other door, Varric stopped her with a hissed,

"That's a trap, Hawke. Let me fix that."

Hawke stepped back and allowed Varric to do his thing, disarming the explosive trap that may very well have taken her hand off. With a grateful smile, she pushed the door open, crying out as an arrow lodged itself in her shoulder. She hissed in pain and pulled it out, grabbing her daggers and throwing herself into battle, only stopping once they were all dead.

Anders rushed to her side, putting his hand on her shoulder and allowed his healing magic to wash over her. Marian's eyelids fluttered and she couldn't help herself as she swayed closer to him. When she opened her eyes, Anders was smiling slightly, healing long done. She blushed and stood back with a grumbled 'thank you'.

Varric chuckled and went to the chest in the corner of the room with his lockpicks, opening it and pausing, frowning.

"It's empty," he said, looking around at them.

"We'd best tell Anso that then," Bethany said.

Hawke nodded, looting the corpses for anything of value. She led them back to the door and left the house, sighing in frustration when she saw the whole alienage was full of armed men.

"That's not the elf!" a woman spat, stepping forward, pointing at them. "Who is that?"

"It's doesn't matter," a soldier said beside her, drawing his sword. "We were told to kill whoever entered the house."

"This isn't what I signed up for," Hawke grumbled as she got her daggers out again.

The battle was long and several times she felt Anders's healing magic wash over her again, her stamina regenerating faster as she threw herself blade first into the back of one of them. Varric saved her from a nasty slice by taking the man out with a bolt to the face. Finally they were all dead and Anders was swallowing some lyrium before he went around and healed everyone.

"I think we should ask the dwarf what the fuck is going on," Hawke all but growled.

Storming back up the step of the alienage, she was stopped in her tracks when a man walked down them towards her.

"I don't know who you are, friend, but you made a terrible mistake coming here. Lieutenant, I want everyone in the clearing, now!"

Silence answered his shout. No one came. He frowned and turned around to see - presumably - his lieutenant collapsing in a heap and bleeding to death. Well, that wasn't something you saw everyday, Hawke mused.

An elf rounded the corner - not exactly an unfamiliar sight in the alienage, but this one was armoured, armed and had white lines running over his skin. His skin was olive-toned, too dark for anywhere in or below the Free Marches. His shock of white hair contrasted strangely with his deep black eyebrows but, Maker, he was gorgeous.

"Your men are dead and your trap has failed," the elf said, a harsh tone to his voice.

His accent was faint and his voice deep, as if he hadn't spoken in some time. He looked uncomfortable in the way he walked, as if he wasn't accustomed to it, but he walked past the soldier without looking at him.

"I suggest running back to your master while you can," he spat angrily, his eyes focused on Hawke.

The soldier scowled and walked up to him, putting his hand on the elf's shoulder.

"You're going nowhere, slave," he hissed.

The elf's white markings lit up blue and Marian noticed Anders sway suddenly in the corner of her eye. The elf turned quickly, arm drawn back, and plunged his hand into the man's chest as if it were made of paper. The captain choked and gasped, doubling over. The elf pulled his hand back and the man fell to the ground, dead. The markings faded back to white and Anders took a shaky breath.

"I am not a slave," he said defiantly, turning back to Hawke. "I... apologise. When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters, I had no idea they'd be so... numerous."

The elf walked away, looking over the dirty brown of the city.

"You were responsible for this?" Marian asked, unable to hide the slight anger in her tone.

"I'm the reason you're here, yes. My name is Fenris," the elf said, turning back to face her. "These men were Imperial bounty hunters sent to recover a Magister's lost property. Namely, myself. They were trying to lure me into the open. Crude as their methods were, I could not face them alone. Thankfully, Anso chose wisely."

Hawke blinked, letting the information sink in. This beautiful elf was a slave? Or, was a slave? She felt anger flicker deep in her gut as her fists clench. Slavery was wrong, in every way. How could anyone want to trap such a creature in a cage? It was like taking a beautiful bird and keeping it locked up, no room to spread its wings, no room to fly.

"If they were trying to recapture you, I'm glad I helped," she said after a few moments.

Fenris's lips twitched into a small smile briefly. "I have met few in my travels who sought more than personal gain. If I may ask, what was in the chest?"

"It was empty," she told him.

He didn't seem surprised. "I suspected as much."

"You didn't need to lie to get my help, you know?"

"It was safest for all parties involved," he said with a shrug as he moved to the captain, kneeling beside him and searching his pockets. "My former master accompanied them to the city. I know you have questions, but I must confront him before he flees."

Marian nodded readily. "If it means fighting more slavers, I'll help you."

"I will find a way to repay you, I swear it. The Magister is staying at a mansion in Hightown; meet me there as soon as you can. We must enter before morning."

Hawke nodded once more and watched the elf leave quickly, glancing around him. When he was gone, she whistled lowly.

"Maker, that was a fine ass," she murmured.

"Marian!" Bethany exclaimed with a hiss in her tone.

"What? You have to admit it."

"I wasn't denying it. Anders certainly seemed to enjoy his presence."

Anders blushed and looked away briefly. "Those markings are made of lyrium. The effect on my magic was..."

Marian snorted and led them back through the alienage to Lowtown and then up the steps into Hightown.

"What would Justice think of the elf, lyrium aside?" Bethany asked.

"He would be... angry.  _I_  am angry" Anders admitted hesitantly. "At the idea of slavery, it's the same as the Circles; there's no free will, beatings aplenty, and rape is very common. We don't know what the elf's been through; the fact that he ran away is brave enough as it is."

Bethany nodded and the four of them were silent again as they trudged through the illustrious estates of Hightown. When they reached the upper estates, Fenris was waiting for them.

"No one has left the mansion and I've heard nothing within," the elf said in lieu of a greeting. "Danarius may know we're here; I wouldn't put it past him."

"He may have put up some magical defenses," Varric pointed out.

Fenris scowled. "They will not keep me from him."

He turned and went into the mansion; Hawke followed. The room they were in seemed to one of those in the bowels of the building; boxes and trash littered the floor, cobwebs stuck to every surface, a layer of dust over everything. Hawke headed for the door in front of them, opening it. On the floor was a trap.

"Plain ol' mechanical thing," Varric said. "Clearly your Magister's an idiot, elf."

"He is not my Magister," Fenris hissed at him, bristling.

"Right, sorry," the dwarf said quickly as he went to work on the traps.

Varric stepped aside for Hawke to lead the way. She sighed in frustration when six shades appeared out of the ground. They were easy to put down with the way Fenris fought; he carried that massive sword as if it weighed as little as a feather. He jumped and swung it with ease, markings flickering occasionally.

"He sends spirits to do his fighting for him," Fenris growled when it was over. "Danarius, your pets cannot stop us!"

Fenris's rage was palpable in the air, in the way he held himself, in the trembling of his clenched fists. Hawke led them through the rooms of the mansion, killing every demon and shade that Danarius sent their way. When they were in the main hall and the rage demon disappeared with a roar, Marian got out the key she'd found earlier and handed it over to Fenris. The elf took it with a nod, leading the way up the stairs.

When the door was unlocked and opened, the room was empty. Fenris swore in what Hawke assumed was Tevene, and turned to leave. He'd drawn his sword and lit his markings within a second.

"More spirits!"

Bethany and Anders hit it with everything they could, firing spurts of spirit spells and fireballs until it went down and they could focus on the smaller shades. When there was only a few left, Fenris disappeared up the stairs.

When all of the spirits were dead, Hawke followed him up. The elf was standing in the middle of the room, bare feet no doubt cold on the tiles.

"Gone," he said, somewhat morosely. "I had hoped... It doesn't matter anymore. Take anything you wish, I... need some air."

Fenris walked past then and back out of the mansion. The four of them scoured the rooms for anything valuable they might have missed, before leaving. Fenris was leaning against the wall beside the door, a frown on his face. It seemed to be his most common expression.

"It never ends," he said without looking at them. "I escaped a land of dark magic only to have it hunt me at every turn. It is a plague burnt into my flesh and my soul. And now I find myself in the company of even more mages." At this he turned his head to glare at Anders and Bethany.

"You can speak to me directly," Bethany said sharply, crossing her arms.

"I saw you casting spells in there. I should have realised sooner what you are." He turned to Hawke. "You harbour vipers in your midst; they will turn on you and strike when you least expect."

"Bethany is my sister and Anders my friend," Marian replied defensively.

"I'm not blind; I know magic has its uses and there are undoubtedly mages with good intentions, but even the best-intentioned mage can fall prey to temptation." Fenris sighed, scratching his arm. "I imagine I appear ungrateful. If so, I apologise, for nothing could be further from the truth. I owe you a debt; this is all the coin I have. Should you... find yourself in need of assistance, I would gladly render it."

"Thank you; sometimes we need all the help we can get," Hawke said.

"It may be good to live in a city again. I will be here when you have need of me." Fenris's head twitched to the side, his eyes becoming unfocused briefly. "The streets can be dangerous at night; take care."

"And you."

The elf disappeared back into the mansion then so Hawke began to lead the way back to Lowtown. Varric took Anders back to Darktown, ignoring the mage's protests. Marian linked her arm through Bethany's as they made their way back to Gamlen's. Bethany smiled and rested her head on Marian's arm.

* * *

Fenris looked around the mansion slowly. He had hoped that Danarius would be here. It was a fool's hope, he supposed. He looked up, blinking in surprise when his eyes met a ceiling inside of the night sky. He sighed; it would be difficult to readjust to city life after three years on the run.

He was tired, and his body ached from being in an unfamiliar form; the last time he had been in this form was in Treviso, back when he was in Antiva. He already missed the feel of midnight dew under the pads of his feet, the smell of everything that nature provided.

And, foolishly, he missed Danarius. The Magister had been the only person Fenris had ever known, the only constant in his life. Fenris had been Danarius's favourite. He'd been his bodyguard, his pleasure slave, his everything. If there was a service that a slave could provide, Fenris was there to do it.

He punched the wall at his thoughts and fought the urge to howl his frustration to the sky. Instead, he trudged up the stairs slowly and thought of the woman Anso had found him. Hawke, her name was. She seemed kind enough, but kind people had turned him over to the bounty hunters before. Hawke had helped him fight them.

Fenris climbed into the bed in the master bedroom, still in his armour, only taking a second to rest his stolen sword against the wall. The second his head was on the pillow, his whole body went rigid with tension. The sheets smelled of Danarius. It was faint, even to his sensitive nose, but there. The well of memories that he'd hidden away burst free.

Sleeping in this very bed with Danarius wrapped around him. Trailing close to his master as they walked through the streets of Minrathous. The proud smile when he defeated another Magister's guards on his own. The long fingers stroking through his hair.

Fenris's emotions forced the shift that came, his armour melding with his skin as he began to tear into the pillows, feathers catching in his mouth. He shredded every inch of linen, tore every stitch, and when he was done, all he could do was howl his sadness and anger and hatred to the Maker.

When he woke in the morning, he shifted back to his elf form and found dried tears on his cheeks. He growled deep in his throat and scrubbed at them, ignoring the scratches his gauntlets left on his face.

"Maker, what happened in here?" a voice came from the doorway.

Fenris had hold of his sword immediately, spinning to aim it at the intruder. He sighed and dropped his arm when he realised it was Hawke, the woman to whom he'd offered his services the night before.

"I had an altercation with a few remaining shades," he lied easily.

She didn't look convinced. "Hey, Fenris? Do you have a dog?"

"No, why?" He could imagine where this was going already.

"Some people said they heard howling around the Hightown estates. Those in Lowtown have convinced themselves it's a horde of magic wolves come to kill all of us because the Qunari are here."

Fenris snorted in amusement and rolled his eyes. "I don't think so. Probably just some feral mange-riddled mutt."

He glanced behind her briefly, seeing the blonde mage and the dwarf from last night.

"We're going adventuring if you want to come with us. To the Wounded Coast."

"The Coast? There are wolves there. Vicious things, should you encounter them. I will accompany you."

He followed Hawke out of the mansion, grabbing his sword. He remembered his encounter with the wolves of the Wounded Coast. He hadn't been joking when he said they were vicious. Even submitting to their alpha gave him no sway with them. That's why he'd ventured closer to Kirkwall, after all.

"I heard there are no Circles in Tevinter," the blonde mage said, looking at him.

"They are not needed where mages have dominion over all others," Fenris replied.

"But there are Templars?"

Fenris scoffed. "There are soldiers under the power of the Archon that called themselves Templars and take orders from the chantry."

"You have a different Divine, don't you?" the mage asked.

"There is a different Divine in Tevinter, yes. Where are you going with this?"

"Nowhere, I'm just curious."

"Are you planning to run off there and practice blood magic with all of the Magisters?" Fenris sneered.

"Of course not! Blood magic is evil; I would never be that desperate for anything."

"I'm glad we can agree on one thing, mage."

"The Circles are slavery too, you know!" the mage near shouted at him, face contorted with anger and indecision.

"Do not speak to me of things you have no knowledge of," Fenris hissed at him.

"I was in a Circle; I think I have a few ideas."

"No, mage, you don't."

The mage turned to look at him again and their eyes met for a few moments. He nodded quietly and turned away. Venhedis, the mage had beautiful eyes: a deep honeyed hazel. Fenris shook the thoughts from his head.

"I'm Anders, by the way," the mage said.

"Fenris."

"Can I ask... What's with the lyrium?"

Fenris stopped walking, staring at the man. He was a mage, of course he could tell; lyrium was the Fade in liquid form, the basis of all mages' power. He started again, catching up.

"It was a ritual that my master did. An experiment of his," Fenris answered, quieter than before.

"Did it hurt?" There was... sympathy in the mage's voice, but no pity.

"It was agony. Imagine having molten lyrium forced under your skin against your will. It wiped away every memory I ever had before that day."

"So your first memory is of pain? That's not... fun. Does it still hurt?"

"The pain wanes. It all but disappears when I--" He stopped himself. There was no need to tell these people he was a werewolf, or whatever he was. "It does hurt."

Anders didn't seem to have anything else to say to that and fell quiet.

"So, Fenris," the dwarf said to get his attention. "Do you play Wicked Grace?"

"I was taught, why?"

He spared a brief thought for the Fog Warriors that had taught him. They had educated him in a great many things, and he had repaid them with death.

"We play sometimes, at the Hanged Man, if you want to join us."

"I doubt the Hanged Man has improved any since the last time I was here," Fenris said.

"I doubt it; it's a disgusting place," Anders told him. "The swill they call ale is probably nug piss."

Fenris laughed, surprising himself. "Ale is made for poor commoners in Tevinter. I don't think I've ever had any. Danarius preferred wine."

"Best not to start your ale journey in Lowtown then," the dwarf said with a chuckle. "We'll get you some decent stuff, don't worry."

The trip out of Kirkwall took them in view of the Twins - the great statues of the weeping slaves. He looked at them as they walked and when he turned back, he caught Anders watching him. The mage looked away quickly, a slight blush colouring his cheeks. The journey was filled with inane chatter that Fenris didn't participate in unless addressed. He spent the time breathing deeply, enjoying the clean air as opposed to the cramped and filthy stuff that Kirkwall called air.

The scent of the sea was strong in his nose, the salt burning slightly. He could smell wild mabari and wolves and elfroot. He wished he could return to places like this and stay, but he needed the security of others, and he'd found that with Hawke.

"What's it like in Tevinter, Fenris?" the woman asked, falling in step beside him.

"Are you asking what it's like for slaves or the common populace?"

"Well, what's your experience?"

"I have watched Magisters murder children in a blood ritual. In Orlais, they call it 'the Great Game', but it has nothing on Imperium politics. An Orlesian noble might fall out of favour, but a Magister... Lets just leave it at that."

"What was your master like? Danarius, right?" she asked.

"Danarius was..." Fenris swallowed hard, the memories from last night coming back. "He could be cruel. A deviant slave would be used in a ritual, or beaten, or any number of things. I was his bodyguard, first and foremost. All I ever wanted was to--" He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I'd rather not talk about it."

"Hey, that's fine, don't worry."

Fenris relaxed slightly, grateful that she would not push for answers.

Night was beginning to fall as they arrived at the Coast. Hawke gave orders, which Anders and the dwarf followed without question. Fenris's fingers twitched, wanting to help, but Hawke had told him nothing. Maker, he was not her slave. He stayed still anyway, not wanting to get in the way of this well-oiled routine. When the tents were up, Anders lit a fire and sat down in front of it, dropping his pack to the floor.

"Varric and I are going to hunt for something to eat, we won't be long," Hawke said as she and the dwarf walked away.

Fenris almost volunteered; a wolf could catch more than two rogues could. He had the dwarf's name now though.

"When I was in the Circle, I had a friend called Karl," Anders said, poking the fire with a stick. "I came here to help him. He passed his Harrowing years ago, but they made him Tranquil."

The words were spoken in a careful tone that told Fenris just how much this hurt to talk about. He sat down opposite the mage slowly.

"That's against chantry law, you know?" Anders said with a humourless laugh. "They made him Tranquil to get to me. He--"

Anders fell silent. Fenris watched him quietly for a few moments.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked carefully.

"So you know that you can talk to me, if you need to. It's not... easy to be pushed into a new life so quickly. I want you to know that I'm here, if you want."

"He was more than a friend, wasn't he? This Karl."

Anders's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "How did you know?"

"The way you talk about him. The look on your face. It's the same way I... Mage, if I ever hear anyone else talking about this, I will kill you." Anders nodded. "All I ever wanted was to please Danarius. He was there for me when I had no one else, when I remembered no one else. I thought I loved him. Foolish, isn't it, how the caged will love anyone that shows them kindness?"

"It's not foolish at all," Anders insisted with a shake of his head. "I know plenty of apprentices who fell in love with a Templar that was nice to them. At first I was attracted to Karl because he looked after me. He was the enchanter in charge of my group of apprentices."

"All the other slaves hated me, because of how he favoured me. He was gentle with me when he was... rough with everyone else. His designated pleasure slaves were often less unused. They resented me for it."

"So you were his..."

"His bed-warmer? I was many things to him."

Anders didn't answer, eyes focused on the fire, and Fenris didn't feel the need to add anything else. Eventually, Anders spoke again.

"Do you ever miss him?"

"I miss the happiness I thought I felt. I miss the comforts. I miss--" He scoffed and shook his head.

"Go on," the mage encouraged.

"I miss having someone to keep the nightmares away," he murmured.

He could feel Anders's eyes on him and made sure not to look up. After a few minutes, Varric and Hawke returned with a few rabbits. Hawke sat and skinned them with a small knife she got out of her pack. When they'd eaten and darkness had settled, Hawke and Varric disappeared into a tent, leaving Fenris to share with the mage or sleep on the ground.

"Sorry, she doesn't think, it's okay if you don't want to--" Anders started.

"Peace, mage," Fenris interrupted. "If you were hoping to stab me in my sleep, you'd be sorely disappointed, and eviscerated. I have no concerns."

Anders smiled a little and nodded, still hesitant to go to bed though. Eventually Fenris rolled his eyes and went into the tent, taking off his breastplate and setting it by his sword, in easy reach. Sleeping fully-armoured in a bed may be okay, but sleeping fully-armoured in a tent on the ground was not.

A few minutes later when Anders came in, the mage paused at the sight of the shirtless elf and blushed, coming in. He shrugged his feathered coat off and draped it over his sword. The mage is skinny. Not just thin, skinny, as if he hadn't eaten it days. He dreaded to see what the mage would look like without his clothes on.

The thought of the mage naked sent an unfamiliar shock to his cock. He shivered slightly and rolled onto his side, back to the mage. He listened to the shuffling behind him, closing his eyes. He gasped in surprise when he felt fingers on his back.

"Sorry, sorry," Anders apologised quickly, pulling his hand back.

Fenris knew the web of scars and lyrium lines that made up the span of his back. He wondered which it was that interested Anders. He shivered again at the air kissing his skin. He was used to a layer of fur keeping him warm, and even now he was accustomed to the Tevinter heat so even this mild weather was too cold for him. He pulled his bedroll tighter around him and curled up more.

He jumped in surprise when he felt something being draped over him. He turned his head to look, seeing Anders putting his coat over him.

"You look like you need it," the mage explained.

"Are you not cold?"

"I grew up in the Anderfels; I can handle a bit of chill."

Anders rolled over then, leaving Fenris to pull the coat tighter around his shoulders. The feathers tickled his sensitive skin but it smelt so perfect that he found himself sleeping immediately.

* * *

The routine continued for a year. Hawke would turn up most mornings with a grin and a handful of her other companions. She'd taken in a blood mage, Merrill. The foolish girl thought she'd never hurt anyone; she would always hurt someone. Thankfully, Anders took his side over this. He and the mage fought too much for his liking, but the mage always draped his coat over him when they camped.

A pirate had joined them too, Isabela. She was very flirty and liked to situate herself in Anders's lap while they played Wicked Grace. The spark of sharp jealousy always flared when she did that. The emotion was so strong that he felt his eyes brightening and many times had to stamp down a possessive growl. The mage was his own man and had never shown an interest in him.

It didn't help that Isabela had slept with Anders before, many years ago in Denerim, and liked to tell everyone what he was like, how good he was. There were many times that Fenris had woken up hard and gasping from a dream about some of the things Isabela had told them about Anders.

Fenris knew he was falling for Anders and, Maker, it physically hurt to hold himself back sometimes. All he wanted to do was bury his face in the mage's neck, smother him until everyone could smell who he belonged to. But humans didn't work like that, not even other elves.

"What are you brooding about now, elf?" Isabela asked, coming to walk beside him, draping an arm around his waist.

"My thoughts are none of your business," he snapped, shrugging her arm off.

"Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed," the woman sang.

"Leave him alone, Bela," Anders scolded.

"The pretty mage comes to your rescue, Fenris! See, they can't all be that bad."

Fenris didn't grace her words with a response, only nodded gratefully at Anders. Fenris stopped where he stood, sniffing deeply.

"There's a group of Templars coming our way," he said, loud enough for Hawke to hear up ahead.

"How can you tell?" she asked, drawing her blades.

"They reek of lyrium and the full plate gives it away."

"Maybe they've come for Anders," Isabela suggested, pulling her daggers out.

"Shut up, whore," Fenris hissed, ignoring the look of shock on Anders's face in the corner of his eye.

Fenris drew his sword, standing still to listen for a moment, counting the number of footfalls in each step they took.

"No more than ten or so. A patrol of known maleficar camps, no doubt," he told them, glancing around their small group. "Keeps Anders at the back in case they drain his mana. Isabela keep an eye out for stealthy hunters, Hawke you need to be available to fall back to protect Anders in case Isabela misses anyone."

The three of them nodded dumbly at how Fenris took over. He turned around, ignoring the stares trained on his back. His hands twitched; he could do so much more as a wolf right now, but being accused of being a maleficar shapeshifter wasn't something he wanted to deal with. There would be too many questions and he was competent enough like this anyway.

The sound of the Templars crested over the hill so Fenris phased into the Fade and moved forward quickly, taking their leader out with a hand plunged into his chest and his heart torn out. Fenris grinned wolfishly at them, the heart still in his hand. The other Templars screamed briefly, drawing their swords and shields. Fenris took out another three with a swipe of his sword.

He phased again, taking out the hunter in the back. He gave over to his instincts, growling and stabbing, slicing and snarling. He turned around when he killed all of those in his way, only to see that Hawke, Isabela and Anders hadn't even moved. They were standing stock still, mouths hanging open, no blood on their blades.

Fenris blinked the anger from his eyes, looking around himself. The corpses of the Templars lay at his feet, his hands dripping with their blood. He walked quietly back to the others.

"Uh, Fenris...?" Hawke asked hesitantly.

"My apologies," he murmured.

"That was fucking hot," Isabela blurted out.

Anders mumbled something and turned around, walking away quickly. Fenris was silent for a moment, watching the mage walk away. Was he angry? Maker, he was angry. Fenris had made the mage angry by protecting him. Hawke put her knives away and turned to follow Anders down the path to where they were planning to camp.

"You are mighty fine like that, Fenris," Isabela purred with a wink.

"Covered in blood?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he sheathed his sword and they started walking.

"You'd be surprised by just how useful it can be to be covered in blood, darling."

Isabela grinned and jogged to catch up with Hawke. Fenris stayed behind them until they made camp, but Anders refused to look at him the entire time. When Isabela dragged Marian into the tent with a smirk and hooded eyes, Fenris and Anders were left awkwardly sat around the fire. Anders got up quickly and went into the second tent, their tent.

Fenris followed after a few awkward minutes. He followed his usual routine of undoing the buckles of his breastplate, laying it beside his greatsword before climbing into his bedroll. Anders was lying on his back, staring up at the peak of the tent. Fenris rolled over to face him, watching him for a few moments before speaking. 

"Anders..." he trailed, unsure of what to say. 

Any fumbling attempts at words were cut off with a pair of lips against his. He whined in surprise, kissing back after a moment's hesitation. Anders moaned into his mouth happily, wrapping his arms around Fenris's torso, pulling him close. Fenris found himself pressing against the mage, one hand grasping the blonde hair and the other gripping a bony hip.

When Anders pulled back, they were panting. Fenris took a moment to be sure his eyes weren't glowing the brighter green they turned when he shifted. His will crumbled as he buried his face in Anders's neck, breathing deeply. 

This was heaven. This was exactly where he wanted to be for the rest of his life. Surrounded by the scent of elfroot and lyrium and something so perfect that he  _wanted_  it. He wanted it rubbed all over his body; he wanted his bed sheets to caress his senses like this; he wanted to  _claim_  it. He pulled away suddenly, gasping in surprise at how strongly his instincts were pressing into his mind. 

"Fenris, what--" Anders asked. 

Fenris gave him no time to finish the question, darting out of the tent and shifting so fast it hurt. He ran. He ran like he'd never stopped. He didn't want to leave, he just couldn't be there. He would watch the camp. He would watch over his mage. He rounded back up the path, lying down to hide in the long grasses not far from the campsite.

Anders scrambled out of the tent, looking around. "Fenris?" he called. 

Hawke poked her head out of her own tent for a moment. "Anders, what's wrong?"

"H-Have you seen Fenris?"

"What? No, where is he?" she asked, grabbing some clothes and tugging them on before she joined Anders. 

"He's gone. He just... ran out of the tent and now he's gone."

"Why would he run like that?" Isabela asked, shamelessly naked as she opened the tent flaps. 

"I..." Anders started. "I don't know. I was just trying to sleep and something happened, I don't..."

The mage was ashamed, Fenris decided. He was ashamed that he had kissed him. Was it because he was an elf? A male? What else could it be? He was so ashamed that he hadn't told Hawke. Fenris felt his heart sink heavily. He closed his eyes briefly but didn't move. He would watch the mage and their friends, whether he was his mage or not. 

"He should be back by morning," Hawke said, squeezing Anders's arm comfortingly before she went back to Isabela. 

Anders stayed in the open for a few more moments before he went back inside. Fenris would maintain his distance from now on, if the mage was so ashamed of his actions. He would never mention it again. 

Fenris didn't sleep that night, patrolling dutifully around the campsite to make sure they were safe. Just before the sun began to rise, a pack of wild mabari came close, made curious by the scent of last night's meat. Fenris ran at them, snarling viciously. Most of them had run, but one had stood his ground. Seeing that they were fighting, the others returned and Fenris was outnumbered twelve to one. He wasn't going to win this fight, not in this form, but that didn't stop him downing several of them. He shifted back and snarled at them, lashing out. 

The mabari whimpered in surprise and ran. Fenris grinned triumphantly before he fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood. He saw Hawke's auburn hair poke out of the tent at the noise, though she was blurry. He heard a vague shout of Anders's name and saw someone running towards him. When he felt himself wrapped around in the scent of lyrium and elfroot, he smiled slightly and let his eyes close. 

* * *

"Fenris!" Anders shouted at him. "Damned elf, open your eyes."

He pushed as much healing energy into the elf as he could, as fast as he could. When he sagged from exhaustion, the elf's wounds had almost all closed except for a few deep ones. He took the time to look around. There were mabari corpses around them, four of them. Deep lacerations marred their bodies, deep bite marks at their throats and legs. Something deep inside whispered to him that there was something wrong here. He set the bodies alight before Hawke or Isabela could look too closely at them. 

"He'll live," he whispered, looking down at Fenris. 

Anders had dragged the elf into his arms while he healed him. He'd never seen the elf's chest in anything other than the dim light of their tent and the image was better than he'd ever imagined. Chiseled but lean muscles were hard under his skin. His flesh was marked with elegant patterns of lyrium; swirling lines and clusters of perfect circles that decorated his olive skin. 

"Maker's breath, what happened to him?" Isabela asked. 

"I don't know. Help me carry him back to the tent."

Hawke knelt to lift the warrior's legs while Anders gripped under his arms. It was awkward and slow but eventually they got Fenris back to their tent, setting him down in it as gently as they could. 

"Bela and I are going to find something to eat, maybe those mabari. Shout if you need us, alright?" Hawke said, touching his arm to get his attention. 

Anders looked up at her and nodded. When Hawke and Isabela's footsteps faded, he lay down slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. He let out a deep breath, trying to process what was going on. The thing that had killed those mabari had claws and teeth, but there was nothing except Fenris there. Maybe he'd been caught in the middle of a territory battle? It didn't seem likely. That only left the possibility that Fenris had shredded them like that, but how? 

He rolled onto his side to look at him. Taking the elf's hand in his - for scientific reasons, obviously, he noted that the short nails weren't the right width or length or sharpness for that find of devastation. Fenris's teeth were sharp, but not  _that_  sharp. The voice from earlier returned, almost like Justice but the spirit was long gone. It reminded him of the stories that the Warden-Commander had told him about his time in the Brecilian Forest and the werewolves there. But they had a fixed shape, Fenris obviously didn't, if that's what he even was. He was reminded of Asha'Bellanar, when Hawke had taken him to deal with the amulet. She became a dragon; what if the same magic allowed Fenris to change his shape?

After a few more minutes, the elf stirred. His lyrium brands flickering as he emerged from the Fade and his eyes fluttered open. Those gorgeous green eyes flew around the tent until they settled on Anders. Fenris's expression changed from confused and open to guarded. He said nothing though. 

"What are you?" Anders asked, tensing briefly at the fact that he still had the elf's hand in his. 

Fenris's eyes widened and he glanced down at their hands but didn't pull away. He was silent for so long that Anders began to question whether or not he'd heard. 

"What did you see?" Fenris asked eventually. 

"You were collapsed a little ways away. Mabari carcasses on the ground. They were bitten and scratched. It didn't look like there was any other animal out there."

Fenris was quiet again, searching his face. 

"You won't find another one," he said eventually. 

"So what are you?"

"Why did you kiss me?" Fenris countered easily. That caught Anders off-guard. "Why are you now ashamed that you did?"

"' _Ashamed_ '? Maker, Fenris, whatever gave you that idea?" 

"You didn't tell Hawke when she asked what happened."

The way Fenris said it as if it was obvious struck deep. How badly had Danarius hurt Fenris that the elf thought he was ashamed of kissing him? He couldn't wait for the moment that the Magister returned so he could watch Fenris rip the heart from his chest. 

"I didn't think you'd want it to be common knowledge," Anders told him. "But I'm not ashamed, never that, I--"

Anders fell quiet, seeing that he wasn't convincing Fenris. Instead, he leaned forward to kiss him again. It was slower this time, more passionate, almost loving. That thought should have had Anders running for the hills, but it only made his heart flutter. Fenris responded immediately this time. He pulled his hand free from Anders's and set it over the mage's cock instead. Anders gasped and pulled away. 

"You don't want me?" Fenris asked, probably concussed from how easily his eyes showed his emotions. 

"What? Oh Maker... I want you so badly, Fenris, but not all kisses have to lead to sex or anything like it. Sometimes you kiss someone just because you want to."

"Why?" 

"To be close?" he suggested. "To show them that you care. Because it feels good."

"But sex does all of those things," Fenris grumbled, obviously confused. 

"Sometimes people don't want to have sex, and unless someone says yes you should never  _ever_  have sex with them."

This confused the elf further, a cute crinkle appearing between his brows. That was when Anders realised it: for all Fenris had ever spoken about being whatever Danarius had wanted, he had never consented. He'd just never said no. Anders felt nauseous all of a sudden, and angry and caring. He wanted to be the one to show Fenris how sex could be when you said yes. He said nothing though. 

Fenris seemed to give up on that line of thought, shuffling closer to nuzzle Anders's neck with his face. He made faint little snuffling sounds and drifting off with a mumble of what Anders was pretty sure was 'My mage'. 

Anders didn't disturb the elf, just wrapped his arms around him to keep his close. His tiredness from healing returned and he just let himself fall asleep to the soft snuffles and what must have been  _licks_ at his neck. 

He was awakened by a faint giggling from the tent flaps. He opened his eyes briefly, shutting them against the light. He squeezed them shut for a few moments before opening them again. Isabela was peeking into the tent, hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Fenris was still asleep so he paid it no mind. No one would believe her anyway, and Hawke wouldn't tell without consulting them. 

"Is he okay?" Hawke asked, pulling Isabela aside. 

"Yeah. He was kind of... delirious though," Anders said softly so as not to disturb the elf. 

"We're going back to Kirkwall; this thing with the Tal-Vashoth can wait for a few more days. He's in no state to continue."

Anders nodded and watched her leave. He looked down at Fenris. His white hair had fallen over his eyes, making him look a lot younger. He watched the lines flicker slightly and felt Fenris shift slightly before he froze. 

"Anders...?" Fenris said cautiously. 

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Anders asked, loosening his arms reluctantly. 

Fenris pulled away immediately, busying himself with examining his breastplate. 

"What did I tell you?" Fenris demanded after a few moments, his voice hard. 

Anders wracked his brain. "Nothing. You told me nothing. Except that we wouldn't find another animal. What  _are_  you, Fenris?"

"I'm an elf, I thought that would be obvious," he said defensively. 

"You know what I'm talking about," Anders snapped. He stopped and took a deep breath. "Hawke is heading back to Kirkwall."

"Very well," the elf said, buckling up his breastplate. 

Anders huffed in response and grabbed his coat, leaving the tent to the petulant elf. He pulled it on as he walked over to the others. 

"Well, he's back to normal," he said, sitting beside Isabela. 

Isabela cooed and leaned against him, making sure to press her breasts to his arm. 

"Was he talking about mages again?" she asked sympathetically. 

Anders shrugged and began picking at the food Hawke passed him. 

"Remember that expedition I told you about?" Hawke asked. He nodded in response, seeing where this was going immediately. "Will you be able to come with us? We could really use a Grey Warden."

Anders sighed. "Only for you would I go back into the Deep Roads, Hawke."

Marian grinned widely. "Thank you, Anders, I know it can't be easy."

Fenris emerged from the tent then, strapping his sword to his back. "I apologise for any distress I caused," he said simply, coming to sit as far away from Anders as the small camp would allow. 

Hawke noticed this but only raised her eyebrow in question at Anders. Anders shook his head. The silence was awkward between the four of them, no one really knowing what to say. Even Isabela was silent. When they'd finished eating, Fenris and Hawke went to take down the tents and pack up the campsite. 

"So our elf is back to being his prickly self, eh?" Isabela asked, knocking his shoulder with hers. 

"It would seem so."

They said nothing further, though Anders didn't complain when Isabela rested her head on his shoulder and sighed slightly. 

The journey back to Kirkwall was uncomfortable until Fenris walked ahead. There was an unreadable look on his face as he looked out to the sea from where he was standing on top of a sand dune. He looked around the wilderness slowly, but his expression hardened again when he saw Anders watching him. Fenris turned and began walking again. 

Anders tried to push the memories of earlier from his mind. Fenris had been a warm presence against him, his hair sinfully soft. The hand he'd placed over Anders's cock was hot and hard and Anders wanted to rut into it. He blushed, feeling his cock beginning to take interest in his thoughts. No one was looking at him, thankfully. 

Taking a deep breath, Anders kept walking.

* * *

Fenris could feel the mage's gaze on him, heavy like shackles. His memories were fuzzy but he remembered feeling hurt, rejected. He remembered his hand pressed... No, he would not think of the mage like that. He had confirmed to himself that he loved the-- Anders. That he loved Anders. Even now, all he wanted was to burrow close to him, smell his scent again, rub himself all over him. 

He would keep his distance from Anders. He had to. There was no room for emotions in Fenris's life, not with Danarius still alive. And when the Magister was dead, Fenris would be gone. Wouldn't he? He missed the forests;  he missed being able to run and run and never stop; he missed the feeling of wind whipping past him, unable to stop him. More than that, he missed something he'd never had: someone to run with. Someone to hunt with, someone that understood him. If his suspicions were correct and he  _was_  the only one of his kind, the closest he would get to that was a wild wolf. 

Fenris was alone. Always alone, no matter how many people he surrounded himself with. 

Fenris always remembered his dreams. Whether it was because he was an elf, or the lyrium or the wolf inside of him, he didn't know, but he always remembered them. Now his mind was full of a life where he wasn't alone. He had a mate that could hunt with him, that he could shelter with during a storm, a warm body pressed beside him. Maybe they had cubs, maybe they didn't. This was a life that Fenris  _wanted_.

But he never got anything he wanted. 

Growling at himself, Fenris dismissed the thoughts, locking them away in a little box that he wouldn't open. 

His body ached. His joints were too rough in their sockets, his skin too tight. The little time he'd been shifted wasn't enough for all these years without it. He would go back to the mansion and lock the door for once, and then he would shift. He would spend as long as he could as a wolf. 

With a plan now, Fenris walked faster. The sooner he was home, the better. He just hoped they wouldn't encounter Varric on the way because he could never refuse a drink with him or a game of Wicked Grace. He didn't say goodbye to Hawke or Isabela, didn't even look at Anders. The minute his feet crossed the threshold, the locked the door behind him. He dropped his sword to the floor, listening to its clatter. He focused on the feeling inside of him and shifted, dropping to all fours. 

He padded over to the fireplace, glad for the first time that Danarius had enchanted it so it lit itself whenever you entered the building. He lay down in front of it, chuffing happily at the heat. He curled up and gave himself over to sleep. 

The dreams returned. 

There was a thick layer of snow on the ground, hiding rabbit warrens and gnarled tree roots, but it lent the forest an ethereal feel. Fenris looked down at where the black fur on his legs was hidden beneath clumps of white snow. 

He heard a faint whine and turned his head towards the noise. His heart felt light in his chest as he followed the sound with a bounce in his step. He crawled through the narrow entrance of their cave and saw his mate beginning to wake in their corner. He jogged over and licked his mate's snout, barking softly to get his attention. His mate opened his amber eyes and pushed his head against Fenris's chest, tapping at the floor. 

Fenris lay down happily, crawling forward to press his nose against his mate's throat, nipping playfully. He heard a little yapping and chuffed back, watching as a little ball of fur pushed closer to him, whining and whimpering for his attention. 

Fenris woke suddenly, sitting up with a gasp. He looked around, searching for the mate he knew wouldn't be there, for the cub that didn't exist. He felt the longing in his chest strengthen. 

He looked down at himself and frowned, wondering briefly why he'd shifted back in his sleep. The floor was a lot colder and less comfortable in this form though. He pushed himself to his feet and heard a click, turning as the door opened. Isabela stood there with a triumphant smirk, lockpicking tools in hand. 

"Oh, hello, my sweet," she greeted, as if she hadn't just broken into his house. "You weren't answering the door, and you don't usually lock it."

"So you thought you'd invade my privacy?" he asked, more somewhat relieved that he'd shifted back before she entered. 

"Exactly! So glad you understand. Now, you must come to the Hanged Man. I even got you a bottle of your favourite wine," she said with a grin, as if that sealed the deal. 

Fenris looked around briefly. There was nothing for him here, so he may as well go. He sighed and said nothing as he went over to Isabela, pushing his sword out of the way as they left. 

"Are you feeling better after that mabari attack?" she asked, looping her arm through his and leaning against him. 

"The mage did his healing."

"One of the many things he's good at. Say, why did you run away from the camp?" 

"I don't know," he lied easily. Isabela just shrugged and didn't push. 

"Hawke and Varric are leaving for their expedition next week. I do believe she wanted you to go with them."

Fenris thought. Maybe getting away from Kirkwall would do him good, even if it was to go to the Deep Roads. He could live with that. 

"If she requires me to go, I will."

"Oh goody. I need you to look after my plaything. Anders is going too, I'm sure it won't be a problem."

"Of course not," he said, fighting the urge to grit his teeth. 

When she pulled him into the Hanged Man, she headed straight for Varric's suite. 

"I got him!" she declared as they entered. 

"So glad that you could join us, elf," Varric said warmly, smiling. 

"How could I miss taking all of your money?"

Varric laughed. "Fenris is setting a challenge down, Rivaini! You going to let him get away with that?"

"I'd let him get away with a great many things," she purred, looking him up and down. 

Isabela chuckled at herself and pushed him into the spare seat before she skipped around to sit beside Hawke. Fenris then realised that he'd been seated next to Anders. He bit back a sigh and took the hand that Varric dealt him. 

His heart wasn't in the game and his mind was too far away. He was too busy trying to pick at every aspect of his dream. He was in no doubt that the wolf in his dream was Anders, but if Anders was a wolf he'd be able to smell it, surely. The mage was a terrible liar beside that anyway; there was no way he could keep it secret for this long. Wishful thinking then. 

"Hey, Fenris?" Aveline asked on his other side, waving her hand in front of his face. 

He jumped, fighting back a snarl. "Apologies," he said stiffly and returned to playing. 

He allowed Isabela to keep the wine she'd bought him and didn't touch the ale. When he left the tavern, he was painfully sober. He just headed home and crawled into bed, pulling a pillow into his arms so he could pretend he wasn't quite so alone. 

* * *

Fenris watched silently as Hawke, Varric and Anders walked ahead, chatting amiably. He hadn't spoken to the mage since their incident on the Wounded Coast two weeks previously. Now they were six days into a seven day trip to an ancient thaig. 

Anders stopped suddenly up ahead, his head whipping around to a seemingly collapsed tunnel entrance. The look on the mage's face alone had Fenris reached for his sword. 

"Darkspawn," Anders called, pulling his staff out. 

Two genlocks broken free of a crack that no one had seen, running towards them with an unearthly scream. Fenris phased over quickly, seeing that there weren't many guards in that area. One swing of his sword had the two of them dead. Fenris choked in surprise when he was sprayed with unnatural amounts of blood, some of it getting into his mouth. He spat it out with a scowl. 

Three shrieks ran towards him, knocking him down briefly. He was on his feet in a moment, jumping out of reached. He swung his sword, spinning round once to gain momentum before slicing forward, being sprayed with more blood and gore from the shriek that went down wailing. He plunged his hand into the nearest one, growling when he found only sludge inside. He pushed it away and rounded on it, watching its head fall to the stone ground with a thud. He turned to the third, only to find it howling in pain as it burnt. It was encased in ice all of a sudden so Fenris hit it with the flat of his blade automatically, watching it shatter. 

He turned to look at Anders, who smiled briefly before using his magic to properly seal the tunnel with some of the rocks lying about. Fenris sheathed his sword and walked back to his little group, ignoring the thanks and congratulations from the miners and anyone else the dwarf had seen fit to bring. He felt something touch his face and scowled, seeing the clump of bloodied flesh in his hair. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair to get rid of anything else left behind by the little battle. 

"Good job, elf," Varric said with a chuckle. 

Fenris didn't grace him with a reply, focusing instead on the sudden nauseous feeling settling in his stomach. He set it aside and decided he would ask a healer - not  _their_  healer - for something to settle it. 

The sickness didn't abate, however, and seemed to actually be getting worse. Fenris had hidden worse before and so kept quiet. He helped Hawke set up their tents and turned to talk to Varric as a wave of dizziness overcame him briefly.

"Woah!" Hawke exclaimed as she grabbed his arm to steady him. "Are you okay, Fenris?"

"I am... fine," he said unconvincingly. 

"Sit, I'll get Anders."

"No, don't--"

But she had already hurried away to get the mage. Fenris closed his eyes to stop the large passageway from spinning, the sounds of a hundred other people cramming into his senses. He was so focused on keeping himself upright that he lashed out and grabbed Anders's wrist when the mage touched his shoulder. 

"Fenris?" Anders asked worriedly. He looked closer at the elf and his eyes went wide. "Oh  _shit_."

"Anders, what's wrong?" Marian asked, lingering just behind him. 

"It's... Hawke, he's been tainted. This fucking place has--" Anders cut himself off with a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut. "Th-There must be Wardens around, we can find them a-and..."

"Mage, I am well," Fenris reassured.

"Can't you hear anything I'm saying!" Anders shouted suddenly, his eyes wet. "You're going to die, Fenris!"

Fenris found himself smiling at how much the mage cared for him. "I have survived worse."

"You'll be a ghoul by this time tomorrow, damn elf. I won't let you do that to me," he whispered, kneeling slowly so their eyes were level. 

"Are we taking bets on that?" Fenris asked. 

Anders snorted slightly and wiped at his eyes. "Now's not the time to be funny. This is serious."

"As am I. Trust me."

"Fenris, no, I--"

"Anders," he interrupted, getting the mage's attention. "Just trust me."

Something about the tainted blood in his body made him reckless. And besides, if he was going to die, he would do so with Anders at his side. That way maybe he could play along with the wish he had to make the mage his mate. His recklessness made him lean forward and kiss Anders softly, lingering for a few moments. As he pulled away, Anders whined and grabbed his face to pull him back. 

Anders's lips tasted of salty tears and sadness, but there were soft and perfect against his. When he pulled back this time, Anders didn't stop him. He noticed that Hawke and Varric were doing their best to look anywhere but at them, as was everyone else in the vicinity. 

"Trust me," Fenris whispered again. Anders nodded but kept silent, his eyes still closed. "I'm going to rest."

"I'll stop anyone from disturbing you," Anders promised, sitting back and opening his eyes. 

"That includes you, mage." Fenris could hear the affection in his own voice and found that he didn't care. He had laid his claim on the mage in front of all these people, and Hawke and Varric. They would know Anders was his. 

Anders just huffed and nodded. Fenris was grateful but also... disappointed that the mage didn't insist on spending the night with him. There was a tent for each of them, considering how many the expedition had brought. Fenris crawled into the one Hawke had declared his earlier, leaving his sword just inside of the entrance. He tied the tent flaps shut tightly and took a deep breath. 

He forced himself to shift, hissing in pain at the feeling of the taint rebelling against it. When he dropped onto his belly, he relaxed slowly as he felt the wolf-blood purging the taint from him. The taint was no different than any other poison his body had been laced with. He had yet to find anything the wolf-blood wouldn't cure him from, but he wasn't going to start pushing to find out. 

The pain in his joints that came with too long between shifts faded. With his senses heightened, he could hear Anders sniffling softly outside. With the taint still inside him, he could  _feel_  the mage on a primal level. He buried himself in memories of Anders's lips, his scent, his warmth, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Anders didn't sleep much that night. The urge to crawl into Fenris's tent was almost too strong. He wanted to wrap himself around the elf one last time. 

But Fenris had been so convinced that he would be okay. Maybe delirium was a side effect of the taint? Anders hadn't been tainted before he was a Warden, so maybe the two were different. He had no reference. He pulled his mother's small pillow into his arms. It was a useless replacement for the elf, but it was better than nothing. 

He'd almost asked Hawke if he could sleep with her tonight, just so he wasn't alone. Maybe they were of similar enough stature that he could pretend she was Fenris. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. 

There would be consequences of the kiss they shared in full view of everyone else. Fenris's kiss they could have put down to the delirium but Anders had reciprocated. He'd almost literally dragged the elf's mouth back to his. His thoughts were still spinning and writhing when he heard noises from outside the tent. People were waking. 

That was another thing he hated about the Deep Roads; there was no sense of time. Maker, for all they knew it was really the middle of the night and they were just waking up. There was no daylight, no sunrise, to stir him gently into wakefulness. There would be no gentle waking wherever they were, not this day. He was almost hesitant to open the tent flaps but he forced his hands to move, pulling them aside. 

He froze in place. Fenris was knelt beside the fire pit they'd created, blowing a fire to life from the kindling in his hand. He scrambled out of the tent quickly, drawing his attention. There was a light in the elf's eyes that he didn't think he'd seen before. 

"Fenris..." he breathed. "You're okay."

"I did say I would be. Were you mourning me already, mage?"

Anders usually didn't care much for the word Fenris always tacked on to his sentences, but he would walk through the Void just to hear it again. 

"But... how?" he asked, coming to sit beside him slowly, reaching out to touch him. Fenris flinched but didn't stop him. "Is this a dream?"

"No."

"Then how? I've seen people die from the taint too many times for you to just be... immune. I could feel it in you. It's not possible."

"Well clearly it is."

Anders huffed in frustration but it lasted only a moment. Fenris was alive. Fenris was safe. As safe as they ever were anyway. He was as infuriating as ever, but Anders felt his heart soaring. 

"Hawke will have questions about last night, no doubt," Fenris said quietly, leaning incrementally closer. 

"I imagine she will. I'm sure they can wait..." 

Fenris stopped were he was and chuckled, his eyes flicking down to Anders's lips. Anders strengthened his resolve and threw himself at the elf. 

Anders climbed into his lap and kissed him hard, tangling his fingers in snow white hair. Fenris growled against his mouth, hands gripping the backs of his thighs and pulling him closer. Anders could feel Fenris's cock twitch in his skintight leggings; he whined into the elf's mouth, wanting to touch more skin. Fenris pushed his tongue into his mouth forcefully, making Anders open his mouth wide as he played with the tongue flicking in and out of his mouth. 

Anders knelt up a little more to get a better angle as he started to grind his crotch against Fenris's. Fenris's constant low growl turned into a snarl as Anders was thrown onto his back. The elf crawled on top of him, eyes so bright they looked like they were glowing as he moved with the grace of a predator. Anders's breath caught in his throat at the sight of lean muscles rolling so sinfully. He wanted to put his mouth on every inch of skin he could. 

Fenris made the decision for him instead as the elf bit hard at his neck, pulling a mewling moan out of him. The elf's raspy tongue dragged along the line of the wide vein under his skin, teeth nipping and scratching. Anders decided he could probably come just from this, his hands scrabbling for grip on Fenris's armour. 

"Maker!" Varric exclaimed as he emerged from the tent. 

Fenris's growl started up again, a low rumbling deep in his throat that reminding him of Hawke's mabari. 

"Out here in the open, really? I mean, it's good to see you alive, elf, but we don't need to see you jump your nemesis."

Anders saw something click in Fenris's eyes. The growling stopped and he got up off him silently. His eyes were back to normal, darker than they had been when lust clouded them. Less glowing, Anders realised. Was that an elf thing? He couldn't remember any of his previous elven lovers' eyes glowing like that. 

"My apologies. I will get water for the day," Fenris said, his usually deep voice rough as he looked over Anders. 

Then the elf was gone and Anders was left ridiculously hard with a love bite on his neck. He scrubbed his face with his hands before he sat up and grabbed his pillow from the opening of his tent, holding it in his lap to hide his erection. 

"So..." Varric started, coming to stoke the fire a little more. "You and Fenris, eh?"

"I, uh, guess so, yeah."

"Hey, I'm not one to judge. As long as he doesn't rough you up too badly; from the looks of that bite on your neck, our dear broody elf likes it rough."

Anders blushed, fidgeting. "Maybe I do too," he answered defensively.

"Like I said, not one to judge. I thought you said he was tainted though?"

"He  _was,_ " Anders insisted. "He was, I could see it. I could feel it. But now he's... not. I don't know, Varric, I have no idea how he's not dead. It's a miracle."

"Or maybe some weird ass magic that Magister did to him. Fenris has said himself that he doesn't know what he did to him," Varric reminded him. 

"That's true, but it seems too..." He sighed. "I don't know. I'm not going to pretend I'm not grateful though."

"You love him?"

"I don't know. There's... something. Maker, can you imagine him even returning any feelings?"

"At the end of the day, Blondie, we don't know much about Fenris. He manages to talk a lot and say very little, and he doesn't even talk much. Who knows?"

Their discussion was cut off when Hawke emerged from her tent, looking like she had about the same amount of sleep as Anders did. 

"Is he...?" she asked hesitantly, as if she didn't want to know the answer. 

"He's gone to get some water," Anders told her. 

"He's okay?"

Varric snorted in amusement. "I woke up to those two rutting like two mabari in heat."

Anders blushed again, looking back at the fire. Fenris returned then, two pails of water on hand. He seemed to be deep in thought and didn't notice that Hawke was awake. She chuckled to herself and sat beside Anders, resting her head on his shoulder. Fenris paused in his movements of pouring water into a cooking pan, suggesting that he  _had_  seen her. 

"Good morning, Hawke," the elf greeted plainly. 

"I can't believe you're okay," she grinned.

"I didn't escape Tevinter only to fall to the taint," Fenris said, his mouth twitching. 

"The elf made a joke!" Varric gasped in mock surprise. "He's clearly ill. Quick, Blondie, give him the kiss of life."

Hawke and Varric laughed so only Anders noticed Fenris's flinch and the flicker of his markings. He smiled apologetically at the elf, who only waved it away dismissively. 

* * *

Fenris wondered whether he should be spending more time with Anders. It had been several days since they'd kissed and Varric had caught them. He'd been maintaining distance since then, hoping that Anders didn't think it a mistake. If it was a mistake, Anders wouldn't approach him, but if it wasn't... Well, he was hoping Anders would come closer or crawl into his tent at night, but there was nothing. 

"Maker, is that pure lyrium?" came Hawke's disbelieving voice from up ahead. 

He was snatched from his thoughts and looked up. There was some sort of... idol in the middle of an altar. It didn't look like lyrium. Not the kind of lyrium that was under his skin and in Anders's potions anyway. 

"It... feels like lyrium," Anders said. "But it's red."

"Red lyrium?" Varric asked. "That'd be worth a pretty penny. How old is this place anyway?"

The door opened behind them and Bartrand, Varric's brother, walked in. His eyes went around the chamber before they landed on them. 

"Look at this, Bartrand," Varric called, waving him over. "An idol made of pure lyrium, we think. Could be worth a fortune."

Bartrand whistled as he got close enough to see it. "You could be right," he agreed. "Excellent find."

Hawke walked closer to the altar, reaching out for the idol. It was sparking and crackling and it was probably not a good idea to touch it. Hawke's hand closed around it and nothing happened. She picked it up and, still, nothing. 

"We'll look around, see if there's anything else," Varric said with a grin. 

Varric took the idol when Hawke offered it to him and threw it to Bartrand in a risky maneuver. Bartrand caught it and nodded in thanks. 

"Wonder how they made that thing," Hawke mused, looking around the chamber again. 

Suddenly there was the clang of the door closing behind them. Fenris felt his heart clench and even phasing over there, he wasn't fast enough to stop it from closing. He could hear Bartrand's cackle from the other side. 

"Bartrand, it's shut behind you!" Varric shouted through the door. 

Fenris resisted the urge to punch him with how obvious it was that Bartrand was the one to close it. 

"The location of this thaig alone is worth a fortune, Varric. I'm not splitting that three ways," Bartrand said. "Sorry, brother."

Varric banged on the door with his fist. "Bartrand!"

"It's no use, Varric," Hawke said, grabbing his shoulder. 

"There's only one way out now," Fenris said, turning to the door on the other side of the altar. 

Hawke huffed in frustration and stalked back up the stairs, pulling the door open and marching through. Fenris and the others followed, seething and angry and ready for something to kill. 

The corridors were narrow so Fenris had to be careful when swinging his sword against the rock monsters. There were several close calls with Varric's bolts and Anders's magic but mostly they managed to avoid hitting each other. 

A long path led them to a demon. 

"I don't make deals with demons," Hawke spat at it, still furious. 

"Shame," the demon said, as if it actually meant it. 

More shades and profane, the demon had called them, appeared alongside the demon. It didn't take long before they were all dead. Hawke sat on the stone steps for a moment, wiping the shade gore off her blades on her leathers. 

"I'm going to kill your brother, Varric," she said nonchalantly, as if commenting on the weather. 

"Get in line, Hawke," he grumbled. 

Marian sighed and stood, walking up. Opening another door led to... something. 

"Shit, that's a rock wraith," Anders breathed as it assembled itself. "They're not supposed to exist outside of stories."

"Well they do and one's attacking us!" Hawke shouted angrily, drawing her daggers again. 

Fenris was already exhausted from battling all day and he just wanted to sleep. He took a deep breath and ignored the strain on his arms as he hefted his sword. 

Hawke's fighting style was the most efficient way of staying alive against this foe: darting in and out of range quickly, chipping at it until it fell. It collapsed to the ground and Fenris grinned, thinking that it was dead already. His grin fell when it rose into the air and started throwing out some sort of energy. 

"Behind the pillar, quick!" Anders shouted, dragging Varric by his coat. 

Fenris took the opportunity to lean against the pillar, panting to catch his breath. 

"You okay?" Anders asked him, touching his arm briefly. 

Fenris nodded, trying to fill his lungs before he jumped back into the battle. The thing had collapsed again, but summoned more of the profane to defend it. 

"Hawke!" he shouted, pointing to the wraith. 

She nodded and darted in, getting as many hits in as she could before it got up again. The three of them kept the other things off her before focusing their attention on the wraith. It got up, reforming slowly. It began to pull the rocks of its form together, rolling them into a ball. 

Before Fenris realised what it was doing, it was rolling, throwing itself at Anders and Varric. Varric managed to roll out of the way but Anders froze where he stood, eyes wide. 

" _Anders!_ " Fenris screamed. 

The wraith hit the wall, shattering the pieces that made up the ball. It reformed quickly but Fenris still had enough time to see Anders's limp body lying in the dirt. Fenris began shaking in anger and fear. He let loose a mighty cry and fell to his knees before he could stop himself. The ground juddered his knees and his markings flared in a way they never had before. White light burst through the vast chamber, almost blinding everyone. 

The newly summoned profanes shattered and even the wraith was stunned. Fenris stood, grabbing his sword with newfound strength. He phased and jumped at the wraith, bringing down his sword with as much force as he could gather. He fell to the ground, sword clattering somewhere nearby. 

A wave of exhaustion and memories came over him.

_"Leto, you need to be more careful!" a dark-haired woman shouted at him._

_Her long ears told everyone she was an elf. Leto looked down at the dirty tile floor and nodded quietly, accepting the scolding._

_"Oh, baby, I don't mean to shout," the woman soothed, kneeling down in front of him._

_Leto felt her hands cup his cheeks as she pressed a kiss to his forehead._

_"I know what that boy said to you, but you must never bite anyone. He turned, Leto. He became one of us. You know how Master hates that. You're lucky Master left your punishment to me. He likes you, Leto, you could do well with him, but only if you behave."_

_Leto nodded, remembering the flare of anger he'd felt at the insult to his sister. The boy had been a head taller than Leto, but that was his sister they were talking about. He'd launched himself at the boy, snarling and scratching at him. It had been an accident when his teeth had bitten down on the hand in front of them in their scrap, a reflex, instinct. He'd turned the boy and now Master was angry. He would find a way to make it up to Master._

Fenris took a deep gasping breath, sitting up quickly. He ignored the dizziness in his head and the pain in his markings, crawling as fast as he could to Anders. 

"Anders?" he asked, fingers shaking as he reached for the mage's wrist to find a pulse. "Anders, can you hear me?"

 _There_. It was faint and weak, but there. He had a pulse. He was alive. 

"I can save him," he gasped out, suddenly remembering why he healed so quickly and had survived the taint: he was a wolf. "I can save him..."

"Then do it!" Hawke shouted immediately, running to kneel beside him. 

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to Anders. 

He broke the chain holding the mage's pauldrons together, no time to undo it. He pushed it side, baring his neck. Fenris hesitated a moment before he let his fangs drop and bit hard into Anders's flesh until he tasted blood on his tongue. 

"This really isn't the time for another hickey, Fenris!" Hawke shouted, shoving his shoulder. 

He ignored her and bit harder until blood was washing into his mouth with each weak heartbeat. Fenris pulled back and licked over the wound slowly, sitting back. He saw Hawke's horrified expression distantly, like she was leagues away. He gave in to the dizziness, falling to the ground beside Anders with a painful thud.

* * *

Pain. Hot, searing pain running through every single one of his veins. It was worse than the Joining, and that had been bad enough. 

He tried to open his eyes, to see the cause of the pain and stop it, but he couldn't. His eyelids were as heavy as lead, holding themselves closed. His tried to reach out, to touch anything. All he managed was a small twitch. 

He heard noise. It sounded like they should be voices, but they were too far away, his head stuffed full of  _pain_. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and screamed at how sensitive his skin was. It was tight, too tight, like it had been stretched over something far too large. Every brush of air was like a thousand little knives stabbing into his flesh and twisting. The thin sheet over his body was heavy, like it was made of solid marble, weighing him down and pressing into every inch of him. The woollen pillowcase scraping his neck was razor blades. 

Slowly, the agony faded. It felt like days,  _years_ , but was probably at hour or two at most. His eyes moved and his lids lifted slightly, just enough for the light of the whole sun to come streaming into his eyes. He moaned softly, trying to lift a hand to cover his eyes. 

"--candles out," he heard beside him, too close, like they were shouting into his ear. 

He tried to open his eyes again and this time it was darker, enough to see by without it being painful. He squeezed them shut briefly before he forced them to open all the way. There were people around him. Women and a small man. A dwarf? What was a dwarf?

He couldn't help his giggle as he looked at the little man. "He's tiny," he giggled, his own voice too loud in his ears. 

"Oh, Maker, he's swivel-eyed," a woman said, drawing his attention. 

He turned to look at her and frowned. She was familiar. The gold stud in her bottom lip, he'd seen it before. "Why are you dressed like that?" he asked, looking at her. 

"Because it's comfortable. Do you remember your name?" the half-naked lady asked him. 

"Anders," he said after a moment's hesitation. That was his name, wasn't it? 

"Do you remember my name?"

He looked at her for a few more moments and grinned. "Isabela."

Isabel grinned widely. "That's right. Do you remember these people?"

Anders looked around at the others. An elf with tattoos on her face. Hadn't that hurt? He knew her, knew her name. She was a blood mage, yes. He _knew_  her. 

"Merrill," he said eventually. 

The small elf grinned happily and nodded. He turned to the other woman beside him. A human, like Isabela, like him. Her name came quicker. 

"Hawke."

"That's right," Isabela praised him, smiling. "You're doing so well, Anders. Do you remember who this is?"

She pointed to the little man. Dwarf, yes. He was a dwarf. A tall dwarf. 

"Varric."

"That's right, Blondie," the dwarf said. 

"Don't confuse him," Hawke scolded, scowling at the dwarf. 

He looked around them slowly. Someone was missing. He remembered white hair, long fingers. He remembered pale lips, a warm body pressed against his, he--

"Fenris," he gasped, eyes widening. "Where's Fenris?"

He needed Fenris. He couldn't explain why, he didn't  _know_ why. He just needed to be near him, needing the reassurance that he was alive, real. 

"He's in another room, you're safe in here," Hawke said gently, stroking his hair. 

"No! I need him! Where is he?" he demanded, grabbing her hand. "Fenris!" he shouted, hoping the elf would come running. 

"Anders-- Anders, calm down, we'll take you to him, okay?" Isabela promised, resting a hand on his chest. "Come on, can you sit up?"

With their help, Anders sat. He hated the heavy weight of the clothes they'd put on him, the scratchiness of their material. He whined and tugged at the sleeves, trying to get it off. 

"Is it uncomfortable?" Isabela asked, moving to help him take it off. 

When Anders reached for the breeches he wore, she helped again and he was naked. He sighed in relief and relaxed. There was nothing scratching his skin, nothing weighing him down. He leaned against Isabela when she put her arm around his waist. The journey to the next room was slow. He didn't recognise where they were. Safe, they'd promised. He trusted these people. 

When the door was unlocked and opened, Anders whined loudly and pushed out of Isabela's arms, stumbling for a moment before he ran to the bed. Fenris was lying there, unconscious, his white hair falling into his eyes. His chest was bare though, the lyrium lines on show. 

Anders crawled onto the bed and lay down as close to Fenris as he could get, wrapping himself around him and pressing his face into his neck instinctively. He felt his rapid heartbeat slow at once and his body relax. The others hadn't lied, but  _this_  was where he was safest. He let out a little whimper but Fenris didn't wake. Instead, he pressed closer still, running his hands over every inch of skin and rubbing his cheek on his shoulder. 

"What happened?" he asked once he was satisfied with whatever it was he was doing. 

"You were crushed by the rock wraith in the Deep Roads. Fenris killed it and then said he could save you. He bit you and then passed out," Hawke said, the four of them standing in the doorway. 

At the reminder, Anders's hand flew to where Fenris had bitten him. He remembered feeling it and wanting to scream at how much it hurt. He could feel nothing there though. 

"It's gone. We were hoping Fenris would explain when he woke up, but it's taking longer than expected," Isabela told him. 

"How long have we been out?" Anders asked with a frown. 

"Over a week," Merrill piped up cheerfully. 

"A  _week_? Maker... Where are we?"

"When we got back to Kirkwall, Mother had managed to reclaim the estate. This is the Amell estate," Hawke explained. 

He nodded and looked up at Fenris. He had to wake up, he just had to. Anders whined again and leaned up to bite gently at his jaw. He yelped in surprise when he was thrown onto his back with a growling Fenris over him. The others were shouting and reaching for weapons, but Fenris just slowly lay down on top of him, nuzzling into his neck and sniffing deeply. This felt right, laying back and allowing Fenris to scent him. This was where he was supposed to be. 

"You're alive," Fenris said quietly, voice hoarse from lack of use. "I didn't... I'm so sorry, Anders..."

"Sorry? For what?" he asked, arching his neck to encourage Fenris to continue. 

Instead, Fenris climbed off him, sitting on the side of the bed where he'd been sleeping. The elf crossed his legs and made himself look small. No, Fenris wasn't supposed to submit to him, that was wrong; Fenris was in charge. But... why? He had no explanation except for the deep-seated urge to make him stop. 

"It was the only way you would live. There was no other healer and..." Fenris sighed and took a deep breath, fingers twitching. "I had to."

"Are you going to explain why you  _bit_  him, Fenris?" Hawke demanded, stepping forward, a wicked dagger in her hand. 

"I had to turn him! It was the only way!"

"'Turn him'? Into what?" Merrill asked, stepping forward to stop Hawke. 

Anders felt a strong protective urge wash over him, crushing him from the inside out. What had Fenris done to him?

"I... I don't know. I don't know what I am," Fenris admitted, fear shaking his voice. 

Anders crawled closer and pressed his face to Fenris's skin. Fenris immediately turned his face to nuzzle into Anders's hair, making a soft keening sound. At the sound of it, Anders could feel the elf's sadness and sorrow. 

"I always thought Danarius had made me into this," Fenris admitted, looking up from Anders's hair. "But apparently I was born this way. I am a... werewolf, shapeshifter? I don't know."

Anders sat back quickly, staring at the elf in surprise. " _Seriously_?" he asked. " _You_ shredded those mabari on the Coast!"

Fenris's lips twitched into a small smile. "Yes."

"Why did you run?" Anders asked pleadingly. 

"We'll talk about it later." He opened his mouth to insist but in a firmer tone, Fenris said, "Later."

The command made him shut up and nod immediately, wanting to bare his neck in... What, submission? He couldn't remember much about wolves; they were prolific in the Anderfels and their behaviour was taught to every child as soon as they were old enough to remember, but time had eroded Anders's memories. He would have to do some more research, or maybe Fenris would know. 

"So you can turn into a beast?" Merrill asked, eyes wide. "Werewolves are usually fixed in their shape as mutated beasts."

"No, not a beast," Fenris said, shaking his head. "A wolf."

"An actual wolf?" She appeared fascinated when Fenris nodded. "Oh, please, you'll have to show me one day! Please, Fenris!"

"Fine, mage," Fenris snapped with a sub-vocal growl. 

Anders felt ridiculously jealous at the word being used to address someone else. He'd become used to it being almost affectionate and fond. He must have made some noise because Fenris turned to him and nuzzled his cheek with a comforting chuffing sound. Anders blushed at how ridiculous they were being; they were people for the Maker's sake!

"So..." Hawke trailed, looking for words. "Anders is now a... werewolf?"

"Yes," Fenris whispered, pain in his voice making Anders's chest ache. 

"You saved my life, joining your pack isn't exactly equal payment," Anders joked, trying to reassure him. 

Fenris frowned, looking at him. "I don't have a pack. I've never met another."

Anders was briefly taken aback. "Well... now you have."

"Shall we, uh, leave you to be all wolfy?" Isabela asked, looking between them protectively. 

"If Anders is comfortable with that," Fenris said. 

Anders nodded quickly, watching the others leave. When they were gone and the door was closed, Anders whined and straightened out Fenris's legs, pushing his shoulders back so he wasn't making himself so small. 

"Don't do that," he murmured. "It hurts to see you like that."

Fenris blinked in surprise. "I'm not your alpha, Anders."

"Tell that to the wolfy bit of me. So, why did you run?"

"I... wanted to claim you, make you mine," Fenris admitted. 

"You mean, like... fuck me?"

"So much more than that. I wanted you to be  _mine._  I wanted no one else to touch you, I wanted you to be covered in my scent so that everyone knew you were mine."

Anders blinked dumbly, trying to ignore the effect Fenris's words were having on his naked cock. "Oh. But why did you run?"

"It scared me. I lived as a wolf for years to evade the bounty hunters and even during that time my instincts had never been so overpowering. That, and I didn't think you'd want me to."

"What would happen? If you did claim me, hypothetically."

Fenris chuckled softly. "Lets get you used to being a wolf first, yes?"

"What'll be different?" Anders asked, pulling Fenris's pillow into his arms. 

He buried his face in the pillow, taking a deep breath, as he lay down. Fenris lay down too, facing him. 

"Everything. I don't know what it's like to be... normal. I can't offer a comparison. Your senses will be stronger. Some fabrics will..."

"Oh, Maker, I had to take off the clothes they dressed me in."

Fenris laughed softly, smoothing his hand down Anders's side to his hip. "I noticed."

"What's it like to be a wolf?"

"It's... amazing. Everything is so colourful and loud and strong, and you can do anything. You can run through the trees, feel the wind rush through your fur..."

"You sound like you miss it."

"I do. It aches, if I go too long without a shift; I don't know if you'll get that."

"Does it hurt now?"

"Yes. It's not unbearable, just an itch under my skin that I can't scratch. I used to run with packs so now I feel alone when I shift."

"Not anymore," Anders said with a smile. 

"You're okay with it?" Fenris asked. 

Anders nodded, setting the pillow aside. He pressed closer to Fenris, the scent of the elf (wolf?) comforting him more than anything ever had. He smelled like metal and blood and safety and protection. Fenris made a soft purring sound, tongue darting out to lick his cheek. Anders grinned and returned the gesture. 

"How do I shift?" Anders asked between little licks at Fenris's skin. 

Fenris hummed softly, sounding sleepy. "I don't know. We'll go out to the Coast tomorrow."

"Just us?"

Fenris hummed thoughtfully. "We should take some people with us, just in case. I'll ask later."

"Yeah, later sounds good," Anders murmured, tracing some of the lyrium lines with his fingers. 

Anders looked at Fenris for few moments before he leaned forward and kissed him. Fenris responded immediately and gave a happy little whimper. Anders moved closer, fingers curling into the elf's skin. He tugged at him, rolling onto his back slowly to bring Fenris above him. Fenris nipped at his lips with a grin before he slowly began to kiss down his body. Anders felt teeth scrape over his nipples slowly and he moaned softly, arching. His fingers tangled in Fenris's hair, just holding. 

He watched Fenris move lower inch by inch, saw his bright green eyes glow as he growled lowly. When the elf reached his cock, Anders was hard. His teeth ached and he tasted blood where he was biting his lip slightly. He reached up to touch his teeth; they were sharp, designed to shred flesh. Fenris surged up again, licking at his fangs carefully. He felt Fenris press his tongue against the prick of one and Anders tasted his blood. 

"Sharp," Fenris noted. "They will serve you well."

Anders blinked, unsure how to respond to that, but Fenris was at his cock again. Hot breath hit his flushed flesh in pants. He looked down, watching Fenris lick wide stripes up the inside of his thigh, eyes fixed on his face. Fenris's hot tongue licked up the length of his cock, making him mewl in pleasure. The touch was better than anything he'd ever felt; his skin was so sensitive now that it made his whole body ache with desire. He felt Fenris bury his nose next to his balls and moan against his skin.

"You smell so good, Anders... Even better than before," he whispered, Anders's sharp hearing picking the words up easily. 

"What do I smell like?" he asked breathlessly. 

"Like elfroot and the forest after it rains, like loneliness and despair, but mine. You smell like home."

Anders fought a sudden wave of tears at the look on Fenris's face. It was so  _open_ , like he'd never been before. His eyes were soft and his face lacked the anger it usually held. He even smiled. Anders's head fell back with a moan when Fenris's mouth enveloped his cock, taking him down easily. 

Arching, Anders whimpered when Fenris withdrew, only to take him down again. He wouldn't last long, not with how tender his skin was. He tried to gasp as much to Fenris but either Fenris didn't hear him or didn't care, pulling up to suckle at the head. Anders cried out and came onto the elf's tongue. He heard a faint moan come from the elf but couldn't gather the energy to raise his head. 

Fenris crawled up his body, licking at his fresh sweat. He still had his leggings on, his hard cock making a bulge in them. Anders felt his mouth water with want at the idea of the taste of Fenris on his tongue, the scent of him strongest there. 

"You taste good," Fenris purred against his ear.

Anders wanted nothing more than to reciprocate for him but the pull of sleep had him closing his eyes. He whined, unable to keep his eyes open. 

"Rest," he ordered, kissing him briefly. "I will talk with the others, just rest."

He was powerless to argue. The command made his body accept the open arms of the Fade much more quickly.

* * *

Fenris watched Anders fall asleep with a smile and a lightness in his heart that he hadn't felt for a very long time. The mage was alive, and safe, and he didn't mind what he was now. Fenris stroked his cheek softly and chuckled at the happy whimper it brought from the mage. He stood from the bed and looked around. His breastplate and sword were resting on the chair; he went over to them, doing up his armour but leaving his weapon where it was. 

Exiting the room quietly, he spared another glance at Anders, who was snuggling into the exact space Fenris had lain while he was unconscious. He heard hissed whispers from below and looked over the bannister; the others were arguing downstairs, joined by Aveline now. He walked down the steps, not bothering to quieten his movements. Best they knew he was here. 

"Anders is resting,"  he informed them. 

"He's been  _resting_  for a week," Aveline grumbled, crossing her arms. "I need to know whether he wants to press charges; what you did was assault, Fenris, no matter the intentions."

"I told you, Aveline," Varric said, "if you'd seen the way they were all over each other, you'd know that there's no way Blondie wants to take it to the guard. Besides, he's an apostate."

Aveline huffed and opened her mouth but Fenris cut her off before she could say anything else. 

"Take me in if you wish, but I won't allow you to disturb Anders," he said simply. 

She seemed mollified at that. Hawke's keen eyes were watching him sharply. 

"So, when were you going to tell us?" she asked. 

"I wasn't. It didn't seem necessary and it would have opened me up to further experiments," he said, gesturing to the lyrium. 

"Fair enough. What do we do now?" 

"Anders will need... training, and seeing as I know no others, I will have to do. There will be... changes in him that I can't anticipate. Everything is louder, brighter, more pungent. We don't know how he'll respond to that."

"What about how he responds to you?" Isabela asked, a frown on her pretty face. "Or even us?"

"Some part of him sees me as his alpha," Fenris admitted reluctantly. "He doesn't have much control over his emotions, particularly those that are now enhanced."

"Enhanced? Like what?"

"Anger, sadness, protective urges, possessiveness. I don't know if you've ever encountered real wolves, but they like to claim things, and they will protect what is theirs with their lives. They make everything theirs."

"What about us? Are we 'yours'?" Hawke asked, a curious tone to her annoyed voice. 

"You are my friends. That was enough."

"But how will Anders see us?" Isabela asked, stepping closer. 

"It's hard to say..."

"He was fine with us when he woke up," Merrill said. 

"But then he didn't have an alpha to protect," Varric pointed out. 

"It will take time. He needs patience more than anything else," Fenris said softly, looking up to the door. 

"You care about him," Hawke said. 

"Yes." There was no point denying it now. 

"Is that Fenris talking, or the wolf?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "Both?"

He noticed Isabela watching him with a curious smirk. He raised an eyebrow at her in question, making her laugh. 

"Your name is a bit... coincidental, isn't it?" she asked. 

"I believe Danarius chose it for the irony. He called me his 'little wolf'; I'm guessing the nickname stuck. I don't remember anything of my life before, not even my name."

Isabela's expression softened to something akin to pity. He looked away quickly, not wanting her pity. He turned back to Hawke. 

"Anders needs to know how to shift and how to control them. There is nowhere safe in Kirkwall, and with the Dalish on Sundermount, I would recommend the Wounded Coast."

"Why are the Dalish important?" she asked. 

"Dalish kill wolves," Merrill said. "They fear it is the Dread Wolf come to tempt them and take their children. It wouldn't be safe. Do you need us to go with you?"

Fenris hesitated. He hadn't expected such understanding from the blood mage and he wasn't sure how to react to it.

"It would be greatly appreciated," he nodded. 

"Ooh, I want to go!" Isabela cut in. 

"I'm busy," Aveline said shortly. 

"We'll all go if we're available," Hawke decided for them. "It's important Anders knows that we support him."

"Will Bethany be coming?" Fenris asked, looking around but not seeing her.

Marian's expression faltered. "Fenris, she was taken to the Gallows. I haven't heard from her since."

"Oh," he said simply. He hadn't expected that. 

"Yeah, 'oh'."

"I'm sorry, I didn't..." he tried, unsure what to say. 

She sighed. "You didn't know, it's okay. Is there anything we need for tomorrow?"

"Silver," Fenris said immediately. "Silver blades, silver-tipped arrows, bolts. Anything silver and sharp."

"I thought that was just a myth," Merrill mused. 

Fenris shrugged. "If either of us get out of hand, use them and it'll force us to shift back."

"Why?" Aveline asked curiously. 

Fenris's smile was mirthless and cruel. "Because it's agony. It hurts less in this form."

"Hey, I'm not putting you  _or_  Anders through any unnecessary pain!" Hawke exclaimed, crossing her arms defiantly. 

"What if it becomes necessary? What if he turns to attack? He may not recognise you. What if I turn on you in defence of him? An attack by Anders pales in comparison to what I can do when properly motivated."

"The elf has a point," Varric said. 

One of the doors upstairs opened and a sleepy Anders stepped out, the sheet off the bed wrapped around himself. He rubbed his eyes and walked down the stairs. 

"Stop shouting," he grumbled. His nose crumpled as he looked around. "Maker, what rotted in a pile of vomit?"

Fenris chuckled. "That would be Isabela and Varric."

" _That's_  why you hate the Hanged Man?" Anders asked, pulling the sheet up to cover his nose. "I can see why."

"How are you feeling, Anders?" Hawke asked before Isabela could say anything.

"Strange. I want to roll on everything," he said bashfully. 

"That's the claiming instincts. It'll get worse when you go back to the clinic," Fenris told him. "You know its yours but it doesn't smell right."

"We're going to the Coast tomorrow so Fenris can have you trained like a good little puppy," Isabela mumbled darkly. 

Fenris scowled at her but Anders just blushed. Hawke smacked her arm like she was an errant child and fixed her with a blank stare. Isabela huffed a sigh and apologised reluctantly. 

"Where are my clothes?" Anders asked. 

"They're upstairs; Bodahn washed them for you," Hawke said with a smile. 

Anders was quiet for a moment before he shuddered. "This sheet is bad enough, let alone my damn coat. Why don't you want to cry in your armour?" he asked Fenris pointedly. 

"Danarius had it made specially. He couldn't have his pet going around bare."

"That's a sight I'd like to see," Isabela snorted. 

A growl filled the room, possessive and warning. It stopped suddenly as Anders covered his mouth with a hand, cheeks going red with embarrassment. 

"I'm sorry, Bela, I don't..." 

Isabela was silent in surprise for a moment. "Andraste's tits, that's hot."

Fenris fought down a growl of his own; Anders was embarrassed enough, he didn't need Fenris making it worse. Varric was smirking at him knowingly though, so the struggle must have been somewhat obvious on his face. 

"Oh, Fenris, aren't you a cute little alpha," she cooed, reaching out to touch him. 

Anders was by his side in a moment, his hand grasping her wrist and growling loudly. Isabela paused, a flash of fear going through her eyes. Her bedroom eyes came back and she turned to face towards Anders. 

"Isabela, don't," Fenris warned. "He's on the defensive. You need to submit to him so he knows you aren't a threat."

"What shall I do? Bare my breasts, kneel before him?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Look down at the floor and hunch your shoulders. You want to look small," he answered, watching the tense lines of Anders muscles. 

She did so without question and after a final snarl, Anders released her. Anders turned to Fenris immediately, burying his face in his neck, biting and licking possessively. Fenris growled softly in reprimand and took hold of Anders's face, lifting his head to look into his eyes. After a moment he got the whimper he wanted and felt the mage arch against him. He let go of Anders and stepped back slightly. 

Anders swayed suddenly but remained standing. He blinked a few times, looking around with a confused face. 

"Oh, Maker, Isabela, I'm so sorry," he gasped out, hands shaking slightly. 

"Oh hush, sweet thing," she said with a smile. "It's nothing to worry about."

"You need to eat, Anders," Fenris said, stepping forward to take hold of the mage's elbow.

"I'm not hungry," he grumbled. 

"Mage," he said in warning. 

"Fine."

"Come with me," Hawke said with a friendly smile and averted eyes just in case.

Anders hesitated in following her. He turned to Fenris and laced their fingers together with a cautious smile. Fenris squeezed his fingers and walked beside Anders to the kitchens. 

Hawke sat them down at the small table in the centre of the room and gathered some meats and cheeses from the cold room, setting them in front of Anders as she collected more food. Fenris watched as Anders began to eat reluctantly and saw the realisation on his face that he was starving. Fenris smiled and stayed beside him while he ate, ignoring the pangs in his own belly. When Anders noticed he wasn't eating, he whined and pushed some ham towards him with pleading eyes. 

Fenris rolled his eyes and took it, eating it under Anders's watchful eyes. When he finished the piece, Anders held out some cheese to him, holding the small block between his fingers. Fenris leaned forward and took it straight from his hand, giving his finger a little lick as he sat back. Anders preened, looking ridiculously happy. 

Allowing the mage to feed him, Fenris soon forgot about Hawke and it seemed she was trying to give them as much privacy as she could without leaving the room. When the tray Hawke had brought was empty, Anders leaned against his shoulder. Fenris heard the door open an inch and turned his head slightly. Aveline was poking her head in to check on them. He didn't know when Hawke had gone but he was somewhat pleased she had. 

"Are you tired?" he asked Anders. 

The mage shook his head. "If I asked Hawke for her chess set, would you play with me?"

"If that was what you wished, yes."

"I'll ask her," he grinned, leaning closer to kiss him softly. "Come on."

Fenris allowed the mage to pull him to his feet and back through the corridors to the main hall. Hawke and most of their companions were still there, talking quietly. She looked over when they emerged. 

"Hawke, could we borrow your chess set?" Anders asked, pulling the sheet tighter around himself. 

"Of course. It's set up in the library." 

She pointed to a side room that Anders led him into. A brief exploration brought them to the chess board set up on a table beside an Orlesian chaise longue. Anders sat down on it, making Fenris sit opposite him before he picked up the board and set it down on the plump fabric between them.

"Do you know how to play?" Anders asked. 

"Danarius taught me."

"I imagine he didn't like losing."

"On the contrary, he liked that I could challenge him. I... was rewarded with every win. It made me very efficient in a swift victory."

"I beat the Warden-Commander himself. We'll see who wins," Anders challenged with a grin. 

Fenris chuckled and allowed Anders to start. The game is slow, neither of them rushing to finish. There was little talk but it was a comfortable silence. For a while they were on an even level before Anders made a fatal move to take his queen. He left his king wide open and Fenris took it with a rook swiftly. 

"Checkmate," he said. 

"You're good," Anders noted, setting the board back on the table carefully. 

Fenris rolled his eyes when Anders reached for him but crawled up to lie beside him. The chaise longue was narrow, meant only for one person, but they were slim. 

"Roll over," Fenris murmured. 

Anders did as he was told without question, pressing back against Fenris's chest. He huffed and reached back to tug at the buckles of his armour. Fenris chuckled and sat up to undo his buckles, reaching over Anders to set his breastplate on the floor. He pulled the sheet free of Anders's body easily and draped it over them, pulling Anders closer to him with a hand over the mage's heart and an arm around his waist. 

"You're warm," Anders hummed, turning his head. 

Fenris left gentle kisses along the neck offered to him, stroking pale skin with his thumb softly. 

"Thank you for saving me," he said. "I didn't say that."

"It's okay. You are truly okay as you are now?"

"It doesn't seem to have impeded my magic and it means I get to curl up with you, so definitely."

Fenris let out a low laugh and tangled his legs with the mage's, nuzzling his shoulder blade. 

"Oh, by the way, I  _will_  be sucking your cock at some point," Anders said calmly. 

Stunned to silence, he felt Anders lift his hand and kiss his palm, licking each lyrium line, before he dozed off again. Fenris knew that Anders was ridiculous and he found it endearing rather than annoying. 

He spared a thought for what Anders's wolf would look like. His fur was the same colour as his hair before the lyrium ritual: a deep coal black. Anders's hair was a burnished gold with darker streaks. He was beautiful as he was, but as a wolf? Fenris thought briefly of the dream he'd had weeks ago. It was best that he didn't mention it to Anders for now, least of all the fact that they had a pup. With everyday that passed, Fenris was more and more convinced that he wanted the mage to be his mate, but now Anders might feel the urge with someone else. He tried to convince himself that he would be supportive if it came to that but he knew he was lying to himself. 

There was something about Anders that made him drop his guard. He even considered Merrill as his friend to some extent. That was how strong the mage's influence had been on him. It brought out a deep-seated longing that hadn't been there before Kirkwall and it had only grown stronger as he got to know the mage better. 

Damn mages. They tainted everything, but Fenris found that the taint of this mage was one he would happily live with. 

* * *

Fenris could see that Anders was nervous. The mage walked beside Isabela, the pair of them talking little but touching often. The wolf in him had apparently released a much more tactile Anders and it made Fenris envious. He made sure not to growl when he could help it and tried not to look whenever Anders's hands brushed another's. 

Hawke had put him in charge of this adventure, saying that he was the only one capable of finding an appropriate place for this. He walked ahead, sniffing for signs of mabari, wolves or bandits. There was nothing but his mind was racing. Was a cave better, or an open field? The open air might be too overwhelming, too distracting, but a cave was constricting and dangerous. He voiced his concerns to Merrill who was walking nearby. 

"Well, out in the open is less controlled so you could run off, but you could easily get lost in a cave. There's nowhere to go out here except for the ocean or back to Kirkwall," she said. 

For all of her failings, the blood mage was thoughtful when she wanted to be. She was right; if Anders ran off in a cave, there was no telling where he'd end up. Despite his misgivings, the open would have to do. They ended up in a large clearing, but there were only two exits and the brambles and rocks between the paths were too gnarled and large even for a desperate wolf. 

"Here," he announced to the group. 

Anders was becoming twitchy now, setting his staff down slowly. The others moved quickly to set up a semi-functional camp. Fenris handed his sword to Hawke, who glared at him when she remembered how heavy it was. Fenris returned to Anders while the others moved around. 

"Are you well?" he asked. 

"Anxious. What if I hurt someone?" 

"We have taken precautions, don't worry. I need you to undress."

Anders quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because the fairies will steal them. Why do you think? They are incompatible with the shift."

"Fine," Anders huffed. "Why aren't you undressing too then? You are shifting with me, right?"

Fenris smiled reassuringly and nodded. "Of course. Danarius had this armour enchanted so that it could shift with me. I will speak with Sandal about replicating the enchantment on your robes."

"So I'm the only one getting naked, great," he grumbled. 

Fenris held Anders's coat when he took it off, holding it out to Isabela to take. It didn't take long until Anders was naked, and Fenris realised in the sunlight that the mage was far too thin. A spark of protectiveness shot through him: he would not allow his mate to neglect himself so. But Anders wasn't his mate. He could make no demands. Anders shivered in the cool ocean air. Fenris stepped closer to help maintain some semblance of the mage's dignity. 

"What do I do?" he asked quietly. 

"Close your eyes. Focus," he said. Anders took a deep breath, eyes closing. "Can you feel the wolf inside you? Almost a separate entity but far too close? Is it there?" Anders nodded. "I want you to reach out to it. Open your arms to it and welcome it."

Anders smiled slightly and his shoulders relaxed slowly until he shifted. Fenris took a second to look over the wolf in front of him. Anders was smaller than Fenris in this form, and that was infinitely amusing. He was exactly like he'd imagined: burnished gold and copper with a layer of sandy brown. Fenris shifted too, more experienced. 

He praised Anders with a lick to his muzzle. Anders pressed closer, rubbing his head against Fenris's chin. Fenris huffed slightly, burying his nose in Anders's fur. He smelled exactly the same, but with a hidden undertone of wilderness. Anders nipped at him before pressing his chest to the ground, tail swishing back and forth slowly. Anders wanted to play like a pup. 

Fenris huffed and nipped his muzzle, jumping slightly. Anders shot off in a dash. The others moved quickly, reaching for the silver weapons Varric had managed to acquire in less than twenty-four hours. He barked to get their attention and stamped his foot to stop them before running after Anders. 

Anders had stopped when Fenris hadn't followed immediately but started again. Fenris focused on the form in front of him, looking around. He ran up the rocks on one side of the path and jumped, landing on Anders and knocking him over. Anders yelped in surprise and barked slightly when Fenris put a paw on his stomach to hold him still. Fenris grinned at the sight of Anders's limbs splayed out loosely. 

Leaning down, he licked at Anders's open mouth before huffing and getting up, turning around and looking over his shoulders. Anders jumped up quickly and ran at him. Fenris laughed in a huff of breath and sprinted away, faster than the smaller wolf. When he came into the clearing, he slowed down to allow Anders to catch him. The air left him in a rush when Anders headbutted him onto his back before laying down beside him, head and paws on his chest. Fenris rumbled a laugh deep in his throat and let his head fall back. 

"They're so  _cute_!" Merrill squealed, drawing their attention. 

Anders lifted his head and growled suddenly, lips drawing back in a snarl. Fenris smacked his shoulder with a paw and watching Anders submit in apology, ears flat against his head and tail still. Fenris huffed and lay back again, sunning himself and enjoying the feeling of having another body pressed to his. He wasn't alone. 

"Andraste's tits, have you ever seen the elf relax?" Varric asked with a low chuckle. Anders tensed briefly but didn't lift his head again. 

Hawke ignored him. "Fenris, can you fight like that?" she asked. He nodded his head once. "Can you teach Anders? Just in case he can't access his magic."

Anders looked up at the sound of his name and stood when Fenris rolled to his feet. He touched Anders's face briefly and fell back into a fighting stance, teeth bared and growling deeply from his chest. 

"It's no wonder the elves depict Fen'Harel as a wolf," Isabela said quietly to Merrill, who merely nodded. 

It took a moment but Anders responded, ears going flat as he answered with a snarl of his own. Fenris lunged at him, stopping short when Anders skittered back, whimpering slightly. Anders's shoulders squared, his lips curling back. He feinted right but Fenris saw it coming and was already there, jaws closing loosely around Anders's throat. The wolf went limp and still until Fenris released him and licked at his neck. 

Fenris stepped back, dropping down aggressively again. This time, Anders didn't wait, rushing at him with a ferocity the mage usually reserved for Templars. Fenris was briefly surprised but fell low and rolled to the side, coming up a short distance away. His tail twitched as he watched the other wolf's every move. Anders stepped to the side but Fenris moved in the opposite direction easily. 

Anders's shoulder twitched like he was about to move so he met him halfway. Anders's jaws clamped down on the fur at the back of his neck and tried to force him to the ground. Fenris stilled briefly until he loosened his grip, before he reared up, landing with his front legs on Anders's back, the force of his weight taking him down easily. 

Anders huffed and set his head on the ground in a sulk. Fenris laughed slightly and nuzzled the top of his head, getting off him. Anders pawed at his leg until he lay down beside him, leaning against him when he did. Anders tensed and released a deep breath, shifting back. Fenris copied, draping an arm over the mage. 

"You're spiky now," the mage grumbled. 

Fenris chuckled. "You did well."

"I didn't beat you though."

"We only tried twice, and I've probably been a wolf all my life," he reminded him softly. 

Anders just hummed, looking up when Hawke's shadow fell across them so she could hand him his clothes. Fenris knelt up, mostly hiding Anders from the others' sight. 

"Hey, elf, why is Blondie smaller than you?" Varric called to them. 

Fenris considered it for a moment, standing when Anders did. "My mother was a wolf so I presume I was born like this. Perhaps that has something to do with it."

"I thought you didn't remember anything from before?" Hawke asked with a frown. 

"I don't, but there were... flashes after the lyrium burst in the Deep Roads. That's how I knew I could turn Anders."

Hawke nodded understandingly before turning to Anders. "You did well. You only growled at Merrill and we didn't have to use this damn silver." She held up the silver blade with a grin. 

Before he could stop him, Anders reached for the dagger. The second his fingers touched the metal, he yelped and pulled his hand back. 

"Fool mage," Fenris grumbled, taking the hand to make sure he wasn't hurt. 

"So... silver's bad."

"If you think that hurt, wait until someone gets you as a wolf."

"I don't really want to," Anders admitted. 

"It's getting dark, we should camp here for the night," Isabela said, walking over. "If you two want to wolf out and sleep rough, I wouldn't be opposed to using your tent."

Anders grinned and opened his mouth but Fenris stopped him with a shake of his head. 

"It's too dangerous out here," he said. 

The mage whined. "But I liked that."

"Hush, mage. It can wait."

Fenris smiled at Anders's grumpy huff and reluctant nod. The others turned to set up the tents that they'd brought just in case. 

"I would hold you tonight," Fenris said softly before Anders could go to help them. 

Anders softened at that. "Fine," he grumbled, trying to hide his smile. "Maybe I can return yesterday's favour...?"

Fenris chuckled, resting his hand briefly on his hip. "I would like that."

They went to join the others and had the camp set up within a few minutes. 

"Hawke brought tents but no food," Isabela grumbled, throwing herself down in a strop in front of the fire, crossing her arms. 

"Anders and I could hunt," Fenris suggested. "It will be faster than trapping or any of you trampling through the undergrowth."

"You just want me naked again," Anders mumbled but didn't protest. 

Fenris rolled his eyes and shifted again, standing up on his hind legs to rest his paws on Anders's shoulders, pressing his cold nose to his cheek. 

"Okay, I'm coming, give me a moment!" Anders laughed, wiping away the wetness from his nose. 

Fenris dropped onto all fours again and waited. Anders stripped efficiently without self-consciousness, taking a deep breath to shift, barking lowly and rubbing against his side before trotting off. Fenris followed happily, jogging to catch up. 

It wasn't long before they found the trail of a small group of mabari, no more than five, moving slowly. Either one of them was injured or they had pups with them. Fenris showed Anders all of the tracks he found, nose to the ground. Anders caught on quickly, jogging ahead to keep a lookout. They were slowing down. 

After only a few more minutes, Anders tapped the ground to get his attention before running back over. Fenris moved slower, falling into a stealthier crouch. He poked his head around the corner, taking stock of the group. A pack of five like he'd guessed. No cubs but two elderly and a juvenile, barely out of infancy. He waited, pulling Anders back into the dark when the two adults left, presumably to go hunting. 

Fenris lay down on his belly and crawled forward slowly, getting as close as he could before he pounced at the young one. It fought back, struggling against him. A sharp bite to its throat ceased its movements. Anders was fighting the stronger elderly dog and they were evenly matched. Fenris jumped over, jaws closing and severing its spinal chord. It gave a final tremor before it collapsed. 

He spared a brief look at Anders's to ensure he was okay before he threw his head back and howled. Anders's voice joined his after a brief moment and a shiver went down his spine as he settled into his old habits and instincts. He pushed the thing onto its back easily and bit into the flesh of its underbelly, ripping away meat. After a few moments Anders came over, licking the blood off his muzzle curiously. Fenris moved to give Anders space if he wanted to join him. 

A little chitter escaped his throat when Anders moved into the space he'd vacated. He let his eyes close and ate his fill before he stood back. Anders finished soon after, stepping back. Their eyes met and they shifted simultaneously, coming together in a clash of teeth and hands that grabbed at flesh. Anders whined, fingers scrabbling at the buckles of Fenris's armour, hissing when his hands caught on spikes. 

Fenris picked the mage up, carrying him a few metres before kneeling down and setting him on the ground with his back against a rock. He sat back and unbuckled his armour quickly, hands flying to the laces of his leggings. Anders pulled him forward with a hand in his hair, licking over his mouth to clean the blood from it. Growling, Fenris pulled the mage's hair until his neck arched. He bit hard at the flesh there before kneeling up to kiss him, fucking into his mouth with his tongue. Anders moaned, nails scratching down his back. 

Fenris pulled away and licked the blood from Anders's face. He flipped the mage around easily, making him gasp. Anders's hands flew to the rock in front of him to support himself, elbows trembling when Fenris took hold of his cock. The elf's unlaced leggings still held his hard cock down when he ground his hips against them. Anders mewled, aching with need and want. 

Taking hold of the mage's hips and pressing his cock against his ass was a simple thing but it had Fenris groaning; there had been nothing like this since Tevinter. He had no oil and he wouldn't take Anders dry, no matter how much he begged. He kept this up for a while, rolling his hips against Anders's bare ass, teasing him with his clothed cock. 

"Fenris,  _please_ ," he gasped, breath cresting in a needy sob. 

"What do you want, mage?" Fenris growled in response, scraping his teeth over the shell of his ear. 

"Fuck me, please! Please, Fenris, please," he begged. 

"That's all you want, isn't it, mage? So needy for a cock in your tight little hole that you'd shout it for the others to hear."

"Please!"

Fenris hummed thoughtfully, making sure Anders could hear him pushing his leathers to his knees and took hold of his cock, rubbing the head over the mage's hole. Fenris bit his lip, managing to control his fangs. Anders moaned, arms giving out, chest hitting the rock and knocking the wind out of him. Bare lyrium-lined fingers clenched in his hair, pulling until his back was arched and it was almost painful.

"Is this what you want, mage?" Fenris growled, tugging hard while he teased Anders with the tip of his length. "Tell me."

"Yes! Yes, want it, please... Want your cock so bad. Fuck me, Fenris, please. Want you to come in me until it's leaking out of me and fuck me so hard I can feel it next week. Make me yours, please."

Fenris sunk his teeth into Anders's neck, revelling in his shout. He sucked hard on the flesh there and pulled away after a few moments, satisfied with the dark, large love bite he'd left there. He licked his palms and wiped the saliva on the insides of Anders's thighs, squeezing briefly. He pushed the mage's knees together. 

"Stay like that," he commanded, voice full of authority. 

Anders nodded, chest heaving with his panting. He sucked two fingers into his mouth, coating them with spit. When he removed them, he sunk one into Anders, crooking it to find his prostate. Anders shouted in surprise, arching. His legs spread slightly, making Fenris growl and push them back together. He pushed a second finger into him, watching his face carefully. The mage's mouth fell open in pleasure, hips pushing back for more. 

Fenris moved so his calves were pressing Anders's together and pushed his cock between his thighs, curling his fingers more. Anders's gasp was cut off with a cry when Fenris thrust sharply, jarring his fingers. Anders leaned on the stone in front of him, fingers gripping whatever hold they could find. Fenris released his hair, moving his hand to between his shoulder blades, pushing him flatter. 

"Can't wait to fuck you, Anders," Fenris moaned. "Not here though."

Anders gave himself over to the pleasure threatening to overcome him. The last time he'd done anything like this was a drunken tryst with Nathaniel Howe before he left the Wardens years ago; the feeling of the elf fucking his thighs alone probably would have gotten him off. He tensed as he felt heated desire pooling in his stomach and Fenris moaned, pushing him down more. 

Fenris didn't need to move his fingers to stimulate the mage's prostate; his jolting thrusts did it for him. He knew that the others could probably hear them with how loud Anders was being but he couldn't find it in him to care. Anders shouted suddenly - a garbled version of his name - and came with a full-body shudder. Fenris bit his lip harder and went faster, removing his fingers to hold the mage's hips tightly. Not long later, he was groaning, head thrown back, as he came with a sharp snap of his hips against the mage's ass. 

He was panting, they both were, as Fenris sat back and pulled his leggings up. He lifted Anders into his arms and turned them around so his back was against the rock and Anders was resting against him. 

"Fuck, that was good," Anders gasped. Fenris just hummed in agreement. "You  _will_  fuck me properly though, and I  _will_  suck you off tonight."

"How could I refuse that?"

Anders chuckled and snuggled closer, shivering in the night air. Fenris knew his eyes had settled on the mabari they'd killed; the juvenile was for the others, plenty of meat on it for all of them. 

"That really should have been disgusting but it... wasn't," Anders said contemplatively. 

"It's strange," Fenris agreed. "We should get back."

"Do you think they heard us?"

"Probably. You were being very loud."

Anders blushed and hid his face against Fenris's chest. "It's been a long time, okay?"

"For me too. Don't worry about it. Even if they didn't hear, I imagine they'd know when they saw you," Fenris admitted, almost shyly, his fingers dancing over the dark bruise he'd left on Anders's neck. "You can always heal it if you wish."

"No, I'm goin' to keep it. Everyone will know I'm yours," he murmured sleepily, grinning. "How are we getting this back to the others? It's heavy."

"It would probably be easier if I carried it. You should shift, it's cold out."

Anders nodded and stood, stretching before he shifted. Fenris smiled a little and put his breastplate back on, buckling up his gauntlets too. He picked up the dog easily and carried it back to their campsite on shoulder, Anders trotting at his side. 

There was an amused tension in the air when they approached. Isabela raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. Anders went for his clothes, grabbing them before he shifted and dressed quickly. 

"Andraste's hairy nipples," Hawke gasped, eyes fixed on Anders's neck. 

"I told you so," Varric said. 

"They took bets on whether or not Anders would have a massive hickey, exactly like that one," Isabela explained. 

"Creators, did you do that, Fenris?" Merrill asked. 

"Yes," he replied simply, setting down the mabari. 

Isabela sat forward with a small knife and began to skin and gut the thing. 

"You've got, uh, some blood on you," Hawke said to him, pointing at his face. 

He frowned and wiped some of it away, but most of it had already dried where Anders had missed it. He shrugged and got his whetstone from his pack, sitting down to sharpen his sword. 

"I wonder where else you left marks, hm?" Isabela teased, eyeing Anders appreciatively. 

"None of your business, that's where," he growled at her, eyes narrowing. 

"You're a possessive one," she mused. 

"What gave it away?" Anders laughed, coming to kneel beside him. 

Anders had a wet rag in hand and tilted his face up with a simple stroke along his jaw. Fenris couldn't help his low rumbling at the feeling of the mage cleaning him. It was a simple thing that struck deep within him. 

"I'm still preparing my dog jokes, you know?" Isabela said. 

"Leave them be, Isabela, they're happy," Merrill said, patting her arm. 

"Yeah, listen to Daisy." Varric just rolled his eyes. 

No matter what anyone said, nothing could have stopped the dog jokes. Fenris had to admit - to himself at least - that some of them were actually good. 

"You know, I always thought the Coast was howl-arious," she'd say, following it up a little bit later with, "Hey, Fenris, were you a-were that you're pretty?" At this point, Varric was doing all he could to hold in his laughter. "Merrill, what do you call a lost wolf? A where-wolf." Merrill giggled but stopped quickly. 

"Okay, that's enough now," Hawke chuckled, sitting beside Isabela. 

"But I was just getting started!" Isabela protested.

"I don't really want Fenris eviscerating you."

"Oh don't worry about that; he's a puppy really."

The camp was silent before everyone started laughing. Even Fenris allowed himself a little chuckle, shaking his head. The woman's persistence knew no bounds, evidently. Hawke just rolled her eyes and pulled the pirate queen to their tent for the night. Slowly, Fenris felt Anders move closer to him until they were pressed side by side from shoulder to thigh. When Varric saw, he chuckled to himself and stood, touching Merrill's shoulder gently. 

"Come on, Daisy, let's leave these two love-birds be," he said with a smile as he went into their tent, followed a moment later by the blood mage. 

"One could almost say," Isabela called from inside the tent, "they're  _barking_  mad with each other."

Hawke shushed her loudly but Anders laughed beside him, turning to press himself against Fenris. Fenris smirked down at him as if he didn't know what he was doing. The mage leaned up and nipped at his jaw, soothing the small bite with a swipe of his tongue. 

"Whatever are we going to do, out here all alone," the mage purred quietly, looking at him through his eyelashes coquettishly. 

Fenris chuckled and lifted Anders easily into his arms as he stood, grinning at the squeal it got him. 

"Get in the tent, fool mage," the elf grumbled before he set him down on his feet. 

Giggling slightly, Anders climbed into their tent, wiggling his hips. Fenris smiled at him and began undoing the buckles of his armour pre-emptively, setting them just inside the entrance when he followed. Pale hands went immediately to the laces of his leggings, but Fenris stopped him by lightly grasping his wrists. Anders looked up at him, eyes dark with lust but open with hurt. Fenris softened the blow by lifting the hands to kiss them softly. The mage had already got himself naked, cock half-hard where it lay against his thigh. 

"Slowly," he urged gently, pulling the mage closer to him. 

He released his hands and wrapped his own arms around Anders's slim waist, kissing him softly. Anders reached up, touching his cheek lightly, before he pressed himself close. The mage's hands smoothed down his sides slowly, hands warm with magic. Fenris shuddered at the memories it brought back but gasped when it made his markings flicker brightly, the feeling not wholly pleasant. 

"Anders, stop," he breathed, inundated with memories of Tevinter, of Danarius.

When he squeezed his eyes shut to try and block it out, Anders seemed to realise his mistake and pulled back immediately, the pull of magic disappearing. 

"Oh,  _shit_ , Fenris, I'm so sorry, I should have asked, I--"

"Hush, mage," he whispered, kissing him again, trying to hide the slight trembling of his hands. 

"Can  _I_  hold  _you_  tonight, or is that too..."

Fenris found himself smiling as he unlaced his leggings and slipped them off, lying down. His cock had gone limp the second the memories of Danarius had pervaded his senses. He reached for Anders, curling against him when the mage lay down. Anders was hesitant to wrap his arms around him but when he did, Fenris felt... loved. 

"I care about you, Anders," he admitted quietly, tucking his head under the man's chin to avoid looking at him.

"And I you. More than I  _should_  care for a Tevinter fugitive elf," Anders teased lightly. 

Fenris huffed his laughter and said nothing else, closing his eyes to sleep. He found solace in his dreams where he could run free with Anders, no fear of Magisters lingering over his head.

* * *

Upon returning to Kirkwall, Hawke promised them all a week free of trips and adventures. The first day, Fenris had lingered in the mansion, the space too big for just him. He wanted to go to Anders, but they hadn't really talked about their whispered admissions and Fenris was scared. Fenris, who had faced down a group of Fog Warriors alone, who had stood against demons at Danarius's behest, who had  _lyrium_ carved into his flesh, was afraid of the healer. 

The next day, he managed to force himself out of the front door in the direction of Darktown, and he was already outside of the clinic before it occurred to him that this might not be a good idea. The lamps were lit so he opened the door, blinking in surprise at just how busy the place was. Children screamed in pain and women wept for their dying husbands, and in the middle of it all was Anders. 

Something hit him them, figuratively although it almost knocked him to his knees. How had he ever thought this man was anything like Danarius, or would bring about a second Tevinter in his bid for mage freedom? This man had done nothing but help Hawke, help him, and heal the poor for free, but Fenris had dismissed his arguments about the mages' plight as if they were all evil. He felt ill. 

He had come to talk to Anders, but the mage was busy, too busy to be interrupted. There were assistants and volunteers running back and forth between Anders and the storage shelves for anything he needed and going over would only disrupt the efficient system they had going. Instead, Fenris shut the door behind himself and stood beside it, walking carefully. If he couldn't talk to the mage, he would guard him and his patients from any harm. 

Most of the day had passed before Anders noticed him. The volunteers seemingly worked in well planned shifts, one swapping for the other seamlessly without needing to be directed. There were several times that grateful patients moved  _too_  close to Anders and Fenris had to stop himself from stepping forward. His possessiveness was not welcome here, if anywhere at all; this was Anders's space, he would defer to the mage on any matters involving his home. 

The volunteers were there for Anders when the mage worked himself too hard without a break, which was often. Fenris smiled slightly at his determination to keep going, even as one of the women was all but forcing bread down his throat. It was during one of these moments that Anders noticing him, turning away from Lirene to laugh as he batted her away. The mage stopped mid-chuckle, face black before he grinned widely. 

"Fenris," he greeted, coming over in the lull of patients. "How long have you been there?"

"All day," he admitted reluctantly. "I want to apologise."

"You've been standing there all day to apologise?" The mage raised an eyebrow and smiled bemusedly, fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach out. 

"Well, no. That is, I didn't come with the intention to apologise."

"Then... why did you come?"

"I wanted to see you," he confessed with a fidget and a blush. 

Anders preened and whimpered happily, pressing forward immediately to press his face into Fenris's neck. Fenris whined softly, sniffing at his hair and wrapping his arms around his waist to hold him close. 

"So you've been standing here all day?"

"You were busy and it was better to have someone guarding the door in case of spies or Templars."

"You're so thoughtful," Anders murmured happily. "So what did you want to apologise about?"

"I judged you too harshly." He waved away Anders's frown. "You are not Danarius and you are no Magister. You wouldn't last a week in the Imperium; you'd try and free all of the slaves. For that, I am sorry."

"It's okay," the mage reassured. "You have your reasons for disliking mages. I should have thought about that before I used magic the other day. Will you ever tell me about what happened to you in Tevinter?"

"Perhaps. For now, amatus, you have patients to attend. I will stand watch and make sure they don't get too close," he said before he could stop himself, the endearment slipping out too. A blush was definitely spreading over his cheeks now. 

"Are you jealous?"

"I do not get jealous, mage," he said gruffly. 

Anders chuckled and licked at his neck before he stood back. "As you say."

Fenris was reluctant to release the mage but eventually allowed his arms to drop to his sides. Anders kissed him chastely before he moved away again. He saw Lirene lean in close with a smirk and raised brow, to which Anders blushed and shook his head. 

The afternoon and early evening passed slowly as he watched Anders work. The mage was more careful about how close he allowed the patients, tossing him smiles and hungry looks. Fenris tried to stop the smile from spreading across his lips but it was infectious. 

"I don't usually close this earlier," Anders admitted as he doused the lamps and returned inside. 

The clinic was empty now and almost disturbingly silent. Anders looked tired but that smile was still there. He shut the door behind him and his fingers went immediately to the clasps of Fenris's armour, peeking up at him. The breastplate was put down on the floor quietly, Anders's hands stroking over his chest slowly, gauntlets joining it after a minute.

"Would you like to stay the night?" he asked. 

"I have a perfectly usable mansion in Hightown," Fenris chuckled but reached out for the chain of Anders's coat, setting it on a nearby chair. "I, uh... About the mansion..."

Anders paused in his movements, seeing the tension in his muscles. His palms rested against Fenris's chest, looking up. 

"I would... That is, if..." He took a deep breath. "I'm trying to ask if you would live at the mansion. It will be safer from any Templars there and they won't think to look for you there and..."

"Ah," he cooed, leaning down to kiss him. "Is my little elf lonely?"

"Yes," Fenris whispered, avoiding his gaze. 

That made Anders stop. "Oh, Fenris... Of course. Yes, I'll move in with you. I'll have to start rubbing myself all over your bed."

Fenris whimpered softly at the thought of his and Anders's scents mingling together so perfectly. He nodded and rubbed his cheek over the mage's head. 

"Fenris, what is this...  _feeling_ that I keep getting? It makes me want... I don't even know."

"Describe it," he ordered, still marking the mage with his scent. 

"I feel so... empty. Like there's a part of me that just  _needs_  something. I've always felt lonely, but this... It goes beyond loneliness, it feels like--"

"Abandonment," Fenris finished quietly. "They're mating urges."

"Like, sex?"

"That and so much more. It's a drive to claim and own and be claimed and owned in equal measure."

"When you said you wanted to make me yours, this is what you meant?" Anders asked, releasing a shaky breath when Fenris nodded. "Maker, how did you resist? It's so... strong."

"I know," he whispered, trying to fight against the feeling.

It was an urge that sat so deeply in his body that he ached. He wanted to touch Anders everywhere, lick over ever single inch of his body. He wanted Anders to own him in a way that should have felt internally abhorrent but so different from anything Danarius had ever made him feel. 

"I want... Fuck," Anders breathed softly. "I love you."

"I..." Fenris swallowed hard. "I do not know what love is, if this is..."

"That's okay," the mage said with a reassuring smile. "It's okay if you can't say it, or you don't feel like that, but I want whatever this is, whatever we can have."

"Are you sure this isn't just because of--"

"No," he insisted. "No this isn't because I'm a wolf. I mean, yeah, it's been... amplified but it's not because of that."

"Then mate with me, Anders," Fenris whispered, nosing along his jaw. 

" _Yes_ ," the mage hissed when Fenris bit his neck lightly. "What do we need to do?"

"I don't know..." 

Fenris blushed but Anders didn't laugh at him, just smiled and kissed him. Fenris wrapped his arms around the man and pulled him close, forcing his tongue into his mouth. Anders moaned and started to walk them backwards towards the back room that held the mage's bed and desk. Fenris felt Anders's hardening cock pressing against his own and growled, spinning the face to shove him forcefully against the wall. Anders grunted but didn't complain, arching his spine to push out his ass. 

Covering the mage's body with his own, Fenris ground into his ass hard, hands on his hips, ripping a startled moan from the healer's throat. Anders pressed his forehead against the wall, panting already. At the sight of pale skin, Fenris growled and buried his teeth either side of his spine. Anders shouted loudly, almost a scream, that likely would have had people running if it wasn't for the equally loud bitten-off moan that came afterwards. Fenris tasted blood and pulled away suddenly in shock, stumbling back. 

Anders had gone limp and relaxed against the wall and would have fallen if it Fenris hadn't grabbed him. The mage hummed happily, eyes closed. The bite he'd left had healed into a large scar, dark pink against Anders's skin. He felt a flush of satisfaction run through him and wanted to nuzzle into every crook of the mage's body. He realised:  _this_  was a mating. He wanted to pull Anders close and bare his neck to receive a bite of his own. He whimpered, drawing Anders from his lull. 

"Feels so good," Anders moaned softly, throwing his head back to feel the mark shift on his skin. " _Yours_..."

"On me," Fenris insisted, turning the mage who was still relaxed. "On me, now."

Anders doesn't hesitate but his movements are slow, languid. Fenris groaned quietly when he felt the mage's fangs scrape over his skin. He arched against him, tilting his head to allow him space. He heard Anders's low growl and shivered at the possessiveness. He shouted in surprise when fangs drove beneath his flesh. He tensed before he felt a feeling of peace flood through him. This was where he was supposed to be, right here. His body loosened and they fell against the wall. Anders pulled away and watched the bite heal with a scar that shone brightly against his dark skin before kissing him passionately.

Fenris's hands went to the front of the mage's robes, undoing them slowly. There was no rush anymore. There was no need for them to hurry. They belonged to each other and nothing could pull them apart. Anders's hand dipped into a pouch on his hip and pulled out a vial filled with a clear liquid. The mage grinned and dropped it down beside them, helping the elf remove his clothes. Anders was soon naked, robes and trousers and boots strewn around them. 

Their hands went to the tie of Fenris's leggings, undoing them slowly. Anders pulled them down, going with them until he was on his knees in front of the elf. Looking up at him, Anders rolled his trousers off and stroked up his slim legs slowly until his mouth was level with his cock. Fenris watched the mage's eyes close as he leaned forward to mouth and kiss along his length. Fenris moaned, lyrium flickering in his skin. Anders reached for the vial he'd put down, coating his fingers with it and reaching behind himself. From the soft moan, Fenris guessed he was preparing himself. He growled but didn't feel the need to stop him. 

He watched as Anders wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock and hissed, arching to push himself further into that hot mouth. He let himself thrust shallowly as he moaned, forcing his eyes to stay open. Anders looked ecstatic, sucking and licking expertly as he rocked against his hand. He had to stop for a moment to gather more oil on his fingers before pressing them back into him with a shuddered moan. 

Fenris knelt, pulling Anders into his lap and kissing him again. He wrapped one arm around the mage to hold him close while the other roamed over his back, stroking the scar on his neck. Anders moaned softly in his mouth and removed his fingers, dripping the oil over Fenris's cock. Fenris hissed as the cool fluid hit his hot skin, shifting Anders into a better position. Anders gave his cock a couple of strokes before he nodded, wrapping his arms around the elf's neck, playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. 

Lifting Anders, Fenris guided his cock towards his hole, sinking in slowly. They both moaned, gasping in the same air. Fenris kissed the mage and rocked his pelvis slowly, using his grip on his hips to move him in time. Anders was quiet, biting back his moans and whimpers. Years of doing so at the Circle had become a habit. 

"I want to hear you, Anders," he whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "You are safe here."

They kept up their slow rocking, Anders growing slowly louder as he relaxed again. Fenris mouthed at his throat, kissing and licking without teeth. Anders let his head fall back, hitting the wall with a low thud, allowing the elf to press closer, almost smothering him. 

"Hey, Anders, do you--" Hawke's voice came from the door, stopping when the hinges creaked open.

Anders growled viciously, teeth drawn back in a snarl. Hawke left quickly, pulling the door shut behind her, a muffled 'But I wanted to watch!' from Isabela coming through the other door.

"Mine," Anders said, a slight blush spreading over his cheeks. 

"Yours," Fenris agreed without hesitation, smiling and kissing him again. 

A hand wrapped around Anders's cock, stroking in time to their movements, and it wasn't long before the mage was coming with a shaky moan and a shiver. The clamp of Anders's hole on his cock dragged an orgasm out of him, moaning into the mage's open, panting mouth. 

"And I am yours," Anders whispered, eyes bright. 

Fenris smiled and they didn't move for a while, eventually making for the bed. They left their clothes in a pile on the chair, pressing close together on the small cot. Anders pressed back against Fenris's chest, a deep happy grumbling coming from his throat. Fenris licked over the still-pink scar he'd left; Anders hummed and arched slightly. 

"Isabela will enjoy her teasing about these marks," Anders chuckled. 

"Isabela can tease all she likes; no one else will see you like this," Fenris grumbled. 

"I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Maker's breath, there was a lot of research for this! 
> 
> It's not edited, beta read and tbh I haven't read it all now that it's done! Hope you liked it anyway >.


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